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Rote To Dzuerongvoe

“Go easy on me, Freightmaster,” consented Shaa.

“Okay,” nodded Qithka. “It seems in this era that the Dzen Aeng Kho has discontinued the Equality Test. This is a good thing, a long-term goal met by Gevaudan Cannagrrh. The Society of Equals is no longer stratified by Equals, Inequals, and Unequals. Law and egalitarian opportunity for everyone.”

“And the bad news?” Shaa encouraged when Qithka paused.

“The bad news is that slavery is has intensified in response. The Dzen Aeng Kho is a fractured state, a ‘shotgun polity’ of member worlds where borders are drawn at the edge of each world-system. Populations are critically low it seems. This had spurred the need for cheap Labor. The Society of Equals still carries one black mark in the eyes of other empires like the Republic of Regina and the Regency before it. Slavery is still very much alive and imposed here.”

“They don’t look downtrodden or abused from what I saw,” contributed Shaa. “They seemed marked by their jewelry.”

“Yes,” agreed Qithka. “Those ear-hoops designate them as slaves though they can earn their freedom, be freed by their masters, or be emancipated by the courts should proof be provided in a case of abuse.”

“It’s de-sophont treatment, Qithka,” complained Shaa. Thank the Ancestors that such demeaning labor trapped in lower echelons of servitude had been outlawed by the Republic. There were still pockets of such treatment along the margins, slavery in many subtle and overt forms.

Qithka pointed her canine nose at Shaa and leveled her eyes to say, “The Dame could not control what polity she was born. Neither could her brother Gevaudan. You were told his story. I’d abolish slavery here and now if I could. I’m not condoning it. But as I am, in this third life I can’t do anything about it except protest and boycott the practice. Want me to take up activism and draw undue attention to this ship, Captain?”



“No,” answered Shaa. This was not her species, not her culture, and not her business as a Traveller.

“More good news though,” announced Qithka. “We bought a starchart from Information. It has the rest of Ruhk Odzuetarug Subsector. We now know more about our next stop at Kfolaell (Guvrrdon 1421*). If the Captain desires, we could advertise for Passages to Kfolaell.”

“I’ll sleep on it,” groused Shaa. If she did take on Passengers to the Panas Gankinra, there had better not be any slave owners. This was her ship.

“Can we get liberty?” Hew asked at last in Anglic. “Tech 11 world means I can possibly buy a Vaccsuit with the measurements from our Makershop.”

“Only if Qithka goes with you, Mr. Hollowton since you don’t speak Gvegh,” conditioned Shaa. “Take your weapon too. Low Law.”

“Hot damn!” exclaimed Hew with a celebratory tone.

“‘Tis a for’gon’ co’clusion, Hew tha’ Gvegh this dep in th’ Wilds ha’ ne’er seen or heart o’ th’ Ursa,” warned Qithka in her accented Anglic. “To ‘em you migh’ come off a huge Beast instead o’ a sofont, until a show ‘em o’erwise o’course.”

“Qithka, I need a drink, a new suit, and some room to stretch out,” declared Hew. “Please say you’ll be my escort.”

“BuddySystem were it then,” nodded the white pelt Relict Clone.

Returning to the Vargr girl’s native Gvegh, Shaa asked, “Since this is our first polity world, will we need transponders and registration? I don’t have their heraldry and don’t want to be boarded every breakout by whatever passes for System Defense Boats this deep in the Wilds.”

“Hew and I will look into it, Captain,” offered Qithka who then added, “If I may, can I pay the fees. It’s my home polity despite the centuries.”

“As you wish, but by the book, Freightmaster,” commanded Shaa.

Before the crew could adjourn the meeting, Shaa halted Hew in saying, “If you are going escorted by Qithka, that might make it a date. Do yourself and all of us a favor and bathe. It doesn’t take a Vargr nose to know you reek like a Bear, Mr. Hollowton.”

The Ursa smarted to the judgement but then looked at Qithka who nodded her canine muzzle in agreement with the Captain. “A date huh? Aye, Captain.” Then the lumbering Pilot-Security retreated to the Common Fresher. Shaa was glad she had chosen a Fresher that could handle ten crew despite only room for eight. An Ursa took up the needs of at least two Humans.

As the Vargr and the Ursa took turns in the Fresher, Shaa received a line item manifest of services from the hangar crew, a Gvegh foreman accompanied by a subordinate technician with a hoop in his ear. To the female foreman, Shaa said, “These will do, plus a transponder per my Freightmaster later.” Looking out the forward transpex of the Bridge, Shaa beheld a multi-color, striped Vargr Corsair touching down in a nearby hangar of the Downport dome. There was traffic out here in the deep Wilds still.
 
* * *

A date huh? Hew checked his appearance in the mirror of his cabin before slinging his Peacekeeper Shotgun. A date. Maybe he could turn this around so he could shed that awful past by being a gentlesophont on the town with Qithka02 Cannagrrh. There was business sure, but a restaurant or tavern or a pub would be nice. Hew felt more ready for society now that he was freed in his exile. A date with Qithka, a girl far older than some Ursa grunt from Mora. He could show her a nice time, better than non-Moran males for sure. The Ursa grabbed up his fur brush a second time.

Moran women paid for dinner, was the culture. Males just obeyed and stayed gentlesophonts. That's how it had always been. Did Qithka's Dame know about Mora culture? Hew checked his account exchanged for local fangs, the currency of this Society of Equals. Being prepared was also the mark of a gentlesophont. His nerve up, the Ursa lumbered on two legs from his Stateroom to meet Qithka at the airlock.

With the Downport technology securely safe at Tech 11, Hew felt the Downport was ready for their first encounter with an Ursa towering over them.

Because she had taken her Fresher turn after Hew, he waited patiently for Qithka to emerge from her Cabin. This BuddySystem she spoke of was new but not unwelcome. His old unit often had a brotherhood of Marines watching out for Marines, a designated who got the fire team back to Barracks in time each Senday.

The white pelt ringtail could have chosen Quilt-9 for better protection on this outing. But instead, the adolescent with two older lives in her head had zipped up a tight, form fitting bodysuit of black leather and embedded armor called Mesh-7. Qithka was encased in it up to her neck ruff, her claws, and down to her ankles. Over this, the Gvegh Relict wore that new lavender poncho with the hood tossed back. No jewelry, but Qithka was lightly oiled in sandalwood aromatic. Not frou-frou at all yet appealing to an Ursa nose either way. Clipped to her belt was that Lesler-Khalan .50cal claw-cannon she had named Malice. It rode in an inverted holster, a draw that Hew though difficult given the Mag Scope and Silencer. But it was a high-tech piece for an Accelerator Pistol. A second scabbard of hardened Groat leather housed a Great Big Knife parallel to the claw-cannon. Girl knew low Law Level, or she was obeying the warnings of Capt. Gankinra.

Qithka got the drop on Hew in asking in her now very antiquated Anglic, "Howa look?" Drat. As a Moran Ursa, he was supposed to ask that of her.

Despite the culture clash, Hew said, "Sharp as a razor and ready to cut a rug. Dance I mean. Stupid Terranism holdover. You look nice."

"Same atcha," answered Qithka. "Reddy?"

"Lemme get the door," offered Hew.

Though the pair drew stares from every Vargr in the Concourse and Terminal, it was not until Qithka encouraged Hew to slow down and walk on his rear legs and upright that changed the air. Such a gait did slow Hew down, but his height in that stance overshadowed Qithka and sent the curious scattering. Was it the Vargr Charisma-thing?

The local ArmorMaker had to be recalibrated when he surrendered his measurements once Qithka translated for the Ursa. Hew was unsure, but the Gvegh armorer seemed a little put off by tailoring him.

Hew saw his first Infight explained by Qithka as the two searched for a polity Administrative kiosk. A transponder and ship registration was next on the shopping list. The two canids growled, snarled, came to blows, wrestled, and finally tapped out when the winner's fangs clamped down non-lethal on the loser's exposed neck ruff at the throat.

Qithka went on to explain Infighting in depth in her accented Anglic which no one here seemed to understand without translation software in a device.

The combatants had quarreled over a registration fee as dictated by law, though law it seemed was subject to a plus-or-minus percentage of obedience. The Infight settled the negotiation. Hew thought it amusing haggling. What if he Infought?

Qithka caught the question and cautioned against Infighting between a Vargr and an Ursa.

"Th' rules get a-blurr, e'en when a Human try it," said Qithka.

Hew tried another question, "How do I know an Infight isn't to truly harm or kill?"

"Ursa won'," answered Qithka. "S'in posture and par'langaj. Y'saw th' tails, right?"

Hew shook his ursine head in the negative though the discourse was confusing nearby Gvegh, a Vargr talking to what looked like a huge, lumbering Beast.

Soon after, Qithka purchased the transponder install, a complimentary flag or banner, and documents hardcopy and digital for the Panas Gankinra. A call to the ship from the desk confirmed the installation with Shaa Gankinra.

Seeing the folded flag carried by the Vargr girl below him, Hew asked as the pair made for an aromatic dinner from a nearby restaurant and bar, a Lone Star most Travellers named it with spacer jargon. "Are you that patriotic?"

"Yoostabe," shrugged Qithka Cannagrrh. "Jus' n'stalgic now." When the two were seated at a table since booths did not fit an Ursa, Qithka unfolded and displayed the standard to Hew.

Nostalgia was a word Hew felt odd coming from a young Vargr girl though he knew now that she was a reborn of two previous females he would never meet.

Hew saw the white flag with the central red dot field behind two upper canine fangs.

"A Vargr fan's are impo'ant to citzens o' Dzen Aeng Kho. Loose 'em and yew were less...bak then o'course." Qithka accentuated her explanation with a nod of her canine muzzle.

"And now?" asked Hew as he pointed out three entrees to a waiter who wore a metal hoop in her left ear.

"Ain't seen belts or missin' fan's a yet," answered Qithka who ordered in her turn.

"That's because of your uh-, Gev, right?"

"Part,", nodded Qithka. "He couldn'a dun all tho'." Hew remembered most of the story chapters on what the recording named the Vargrtarian of the Collapse here in Gvurrdon Sector.

Qithka refolded the flag of the Society of Equals as drinks arrived. Hew found his drink served in what looked like Qithka's Big-Chug plastic container. Qithka and the Ursa had to confirm their ages with their UPP cards. It thus probibited Qithka a beer though she denied wanting one. Psion was her excuse in Anglic.

"You are taking this Psion-thing real serious, huh?" Hew asked.

"Dun wanna, 'cept brayn a now a tool fer morein thinkin'," said Qithka eyeing Hew's brew.

"And you're still underage," added Hew before taking a pull of his beer.

"Now don' yew star'!" Qithka's protest was interrupted by her arriving ribs buried under spicy barbecue sauce. Hew's first bowl was a massive poultry salad, a bird he could not name since the menu was in claw-scratchy Gvegh letters.

When the slave waitress had to take three trips to deliver all of Hew's entrees, he paused after finishing the first. Looking at the Relict Clone across the table and below his height even with him sitting on the floor, the Ursa lowered his deep voice and asked, "Did-...did the Dame own slaves in your family, Qithka? I noticed Shaa did not ask. Don't answ-"

"Yesh," said Qithka cutting off Hew and with her mouth full. "Yes, she did." More carefully enunciated Anglic meant the girl was serious and deadpan, matter of fact.

The answer meant Qithka02 remembered owning Pack Cannagrrh slaves in the Dame's lifetime. She had been Alpha for decades, a life extended by drugs called anagathics.

"And now?"

"Won'. Nor unleseen mus', a mebbe t' sav' lifes."

Hew pushed just one more time. "Slavery is wrong, Qithka Cannagrrh," he said with another pull of his brew to commit his words.

"Yew tink I don' kno' dat?" growled Qithka up at the Ursa. "Look 'here, I been lait intew by Esksa Relltsou a'reddy. Yew gonna chew on me fer a pryor life tew? If'n so, I tell wha' I tol' him. Th' Dame treat th' Pack slaves like family, like Pack. Ne'er one time she hadda Infight nor tear inta one. Roofs, gud foods, and afters t' each Fete an' party. Gev too. Those wha' could pay fer freedom wern't kep' from it. I hayt it, 'ew 'ollowton. Th' Dzen Aeng Kho don' have prisons or Penile Colonies. So we hadda-...wha' yew laffin' at?"

Hew could not stop chuckling at Qithka's misuse of penal. When he explained it to her, it somehow disarmed the sharpness of the topic. The two shared a short laugh before Hew nodded and said, "You're right. This is a new life. You should get to start over, no matter what you remember."

"Write that t’ yer own Relict Clone, 'ew."

Hew returned to his second entree, a platter of spicy megasalmon. He made sure to thank the slave waitress when she refilled his beer container.

Qithka calmed a bit and spoke more to herself by looking down at her plate of half-eaten ribs. She mumbled, "A'least th' Equality Test a no more. Pat dam helpt wit' dat in 'er day. Now, the entyr polty a shawtgun mess and dyin'. No Society, no slavry."

In Hew's mind now, he realized that the female across the table from him had once been an Equal, an Unequal and now a non-citizen of this Society of Equals. She was right. No one chose into what culture or state they entered the universe. Privately detesting what cash fangs he had, the Ursa waited until Qithka paid the dinner bill with the waitress. Then he tipped the female Vargr slave the rest of his fangs notes. He detested the money of this polity that still practiced slavery centuries after the Dame and Qithka01. What would Qithka02 attempt next?
 
* * *

Uthka Varzeekh would say she knew this eventuality was coming, the fall of the Society of Equals. The old Seer probably Looked, even if it was simply psychohistory, psychology, sociology, sophontology and some minor psionics parlor tricks. The signs were there after centuries of lasting this long. Though it had lasted through the eras, the shotgun pattern of this remnant Dzen Aeng Kho was succumbing to the Pastoral Age.



The Wilds are not worth it, thought Qithka. Who in the Republic of Regina or its margins had the wherewithal to step off or to simply care? She needed to let go of the Society of Equals, her old loyalties, her patriotism that was centuries overdue for a smoldering and quiet dissolution.

Even if there were no Dzen Aeng Kho, Qithka02 Cannagrrh held onto her hope that Dzuerongvoe was just a few more jumps coreward. She had to hold tightly, for home was all she had left.

Hew was finishing his last entree, a Groat steak medium. The Ursa liked his meat a little more cooked than Qithka. She sipped at her vitamin juice to put something in her mouth other than words of misery. That was when she spotted the four roguish Vargr step into the Lone Star, likely from the Corsair Shaa had mentioned on the Comm at the Administrators desk and kiosk.

With Hew Hollowton putting back his third beer in a mug that Qithka was sure she could bathe in, he missed the bold coloration of the pirates stepping up to the bar and looking about for marks. Qithka knew this because the Dame had been a Rogue though her schemes centered around portraying an Entertainer after a boring Career as an actual Entertainer. The years running with the Corsair band allowed Qithka to identify the daring palette colors of groups like the Lianic Raiders and of course Kforuzeng. These pirates looked non-committal at the bar, and Qithka hoped they were simply wetting their whistles.

The most charismatic of the four pirates beheld Hew sitting at the table with Qithka. Qithka herself pretended not to notice. The stance and bolder gestures put this Vargr above his fellows and Qithka by her reckoning. “We need to go,” whispered Qithka. “There’s about to be a bar fight.”

“With who?” Hew asked, putting down his emptied beer container. To call it a mug was an understatement.

Qithka did a quick scan of the Lone Star before answering, “With us. A lone female with a huge pet Bear is what they see. Let’s go. And carry your Peacekeeper in both your claws.”

The leader of the four pirates alerted his buddies to the brown tower of fur. The four were treated to a closeup of Hew as he kept his mass between them and Qithka. Per her instructions, the waddling Ursa held his Mora Peacekeeper out. It was the biggest longarm in the Lone Star and looked like it was home in the Marine’s paws. Hew carried the weapon like it could fit nowhere else

Though the pirates spoke in Gvegh, Qithka heard whispers saying words such as trained, attack pet, and questions of whether the mountainous Hew was a sophont or a Beast. Qithka found herself flattening her ears. Ursa were unknown this far deep into the coreward Wilds. But since the pirates were here to scout marks, Qithka and Hew left unmolested from the Lone Star though her ears burned on the way out.

Some distance from the restaurant later, Hew slung his Peacekeeper and asked Qithka, “How bad was it?”

“Not too bad,” answered Qithka. At least the leader of the four pirates had kept his claws off her. “Some words you might have punched him for I’m glad were kept in my language.”

“Oh yeah? Should I go back and defend our honor?”

“Nothing like that!”
 
“Nothing like that!”

“Who were they?” asked Hew who then dropped to all-fours. Perhaps he was feeling the four huge beers he had washed down three equivalent meals.

“Corsairs, from the Uengkou-class that arrived earlier today,” answered Qithka. “If they see what we next load, they may think us a target. We have to downplay ourselves even if traffic is very thin out here in the Wilds.”

“Let them come,” growled Hew, the first actual growling voice to come from the Ursa that Qithka had heard. “These pups don’t know a Mora Marine.”

“Cargo, maybe passengers and we jump very early,” planned Qithka aloud. “The Panas can jump far earlier than that old, 400-ton class.”

“You remember them from the Dame’s time, yeah?”

“The Uengkou-class still outweighs and outguns us,” explained Qithka, “but Shaa’s ship is Tech 16 out of Pandrin. She planned her retirement vessel well.”

Attaining the hangar where sat the Panas Gankinra, Hew asked Qithka, “Your story said the Dame was once a Corsair. What kind of Rogue work did she do?”

“Scams,” said Qithka remembering back to the Dame’s days before tailing Gevaudan Cannagrrh into the Third Imperium. “She’d pretend to be a new correspondent with a camera and sound crew - all Corsairs, mind - and interview marks, ship captains, and ask interstellar economy questions. With the Dame’s Charisma, her marks were all the more ready to tout their flags, their corporate logos, their nationalities, and anything else that might garner Fame or better business. Then, with footage captured, the Dame sold her interviews to Corsair commanders, making a hefty sum that allowed the Dame a cushion for when her brother dumped her on Ouse Faeg.” Qithka did not catch the edge to her voice at the last until Hew asked his next question after a short pause.

“You’re still prickly about that,” noted Hew aloud. “Gevaudan’s Ploy was it called?”

“Yes,” nodded Qithka in time with her Vargr loping gait. “That’s why I let you off the Panas Gankinra first tonight. After Gevaudan did that to the Dame, I’m never the first sophont to step out the airlock.”

“She did forgive her brother for that, didn’t she?”

Qithka scratched her right ear and answered, “Yes, but decades later when he apologized to her after Zhevra Cannagrrh returned him to Dzuerongvoe.”

“So much history in that teenage skull of yours.”

“Too much history, Hew. Too much.”

Hew blocked the inner airlock door with his mass and turned to face Qithka squarely. On all-fours still and lowering his head nose-to-nose with Qithka, the Ursa said in a lowered voice, “Thanks, Qithka for the date. I needed to get out, stretch my legs, buy a Need, and see some town. You know the language and have the mind to watch out for us. Thanks.”

Qithka flushed with the praise, but nodded to say, “You’re welcome, Hew.” Then the two entered the Safari Ship to catch a sleep.
 
* * *

Zhem conferred with the ground crew replenishing the Life Support, but more importantly the Med Console and Clinic supplies. He had to explain in detail beyond their Vargr scope that one of the crew was a huge Ursa. Most usual dosages had to be doubled for such a huge sophont. The fact that he was the Ship’s Medic aboard the Safari Ship and a Cym-Robot did not help things. Zhem had to follow around the Vargr and repeat himself in keeping up his authority. The Wilds Vargr were discounting his Charisma on the principle that Robot Charisma did not equate Vargr Charisma. Added to this was the technophobia of Zhem’s not-to-be-named ancestors. Yet, Shaa Gankinra was counting on her Dr. Zhem to stock the ship’s Medical compartment.

Zhem took a moment to confer with Capt. Gankinra when he could not keep the attention of the Vargr foreman nor the foreman’s subordinates. “I don’t understand, Captain. I have Charisma. Why am I being ignored by these Wilds Vargr? What am I doing wrong?” Zhem could not ask Qithka as both she and Hew Hollowton were still sleeping off their date.

“They are not used to a Cym, Dr. Zhem,” answered Shaa who was having just as much trouble with the crews installing the Society of Equals transponder. “We have yet to assert our place on the Vargr societal ladder.” The Vilani woman then retreated to the Bridge to yell at a Vargr wearing an ear hoop in a left ear.

Zhem escorted Qithka to the Cargo Market once Capt. Gankinra announced available Passenger Cabins from Taeksoudhagnou to Kfolaell. He asked her about the disrespectful treatment he and Shaa received.

“We are due our respect yes,” began Qithka, “but if you look deeper, watch their paralanguage, you will see that the ground crews were giving us a subtle clue even if they are unaware of it.”

“How do you mean?” Zhem asked.

“Take it from a former Corsair’s Relict Clone granddaughter,” prefaced Qithka. “They think we are going to be attacked by those Corsairs far enough out of immediate help, but before we can jump from Taeksoudhagnou. Why work so hard in installing a transponder, refresh our Life Support and Medical compartment if they know we are soon to be space dust, victimized by Corsairs?”

“They feel their efforts are a waste?”

“Why respect the Charisma of the soon-to-be dead?” asked Qithka with logic. “It is a waste of time to stare down the doomed. No Charisma in that, right? The staff here saw the Corsair leave as I slept. They know we are the only traffic they’ve seen in weeks if not days. Our install of a new transponder says to them that we are new to the Dzen Aeng Kho. The Frigate won’t rush to our rescue. The Corsairs know this. Depending on how I do in the Cargo Market ahead will determine if they want to waylay the Panas Gankinra.”

Zhem looked ahead to the noisy market pits in commodities before asking, “How will the pirates evaluate what we are carrying?”

“Oh, they will have someone down here, maybe in the Tower, perhaps on the ground who will snitch our payload to the Corsairs deep afield. The Dame saw this and so did my Pattern dam Qithka01 in her time.”

Zhem finished the logical course in saying, “If we are carrying valuable cargo, Freight, or Passengers they can ransom, they will assault us and demand our surrender.” As a Cym, Zhem had in previous habitations of starship computers seen a few piracy settings. Qithka had now connected the doomed attitude of the workers to the coming piracy. Zhem filed this away for further study as Qithka searched the commodities pits for something to fill twenty tons of available cargo space. The other twenty tons aboard the Panas Gankinra were still occupied with extra emergency life support needs.

“But the service crews have warned us without truly snitching on the Corsairs. Plausible deniability and all Charisma is satisfied. We only needed to swallow ours long enough to notice the backhanded warning.”

“You are wise, Qithka,” decided Zhem aloud.

Qithka blushed under her white facial fur but then said, “I’m experienced. Let us find out if I am truly wise.”
 
Zhem observed Qithka work in the Cargo Market. The masses of Vargr jockeying for a profit created an ambient cacophony in the speculative pits. Though Zhem thought them expensive and useless, Qithka found Unusual Self-Solving Puzzles, visual trinkets that moved their constituent parts about until they solved and unsolved themselves. Zhem compared them to desk ornaments, gifts for biological superiors for Holiday or Boss Day or some other celebration such as birthdays. Perhaps he could enjoy one on his Move day. But because the Self-Solving Puzzles moved so slowly, Zhem thought himself too impatient. Cym processing power was too fast to wait around for a puzzle to complete itself before resetting to an incomplete state and starting all over.

In the Freight Yards of Taeksoudhagnou Trench Downport, Qithka accepted a Freight contract of only four tons of Unusual Antifungals, pharma medicines against fungal infections. Zhem knew what Shaa would say to that once she saw the assembling cargo manifest from her Freightmaster. Shaa at this hour was likely busy accepting passages Medium and Low to the next world named Kfolaell.

“Why do both our Freight and our speculatives carry the descriptor ‘Unusual’, Qithka?” Zhem asked as the two returned to the hangar where Shaa prepared a lift schedule for the Tower.

“It’s a function of this Fluid world, Zhem,” answered Qithka. “Most cargos out of Fluid worlds will get that tacked on as if it helps sell the commodity offered. Simply calling it Antifungals would not sell as easily. An extra adjective is marketing to sophont ears. It also helps categorize the source for the buyer at the destination, helping that sophont sell to the public when the cargo is unpacked and put on market shelves.”

“And this happens with every payload, Freight or speculative?”

Qithka moved to open the Cargo Lock by tapping at her slung Portable Controller from under the starboard wing of the Panas Gankinra. Zhem and the Vargr could see arriving Passengers with their luggage. The Low Passengers would embark first, requiring Zhem’s help soon.

“Not every world will have the Trade Classifications to enhance the cargo descriptor, but most do.”

“Odd. Cyms simply read the strings in hexadecimal and have biologicals load the ships. We never cared what sold better.”

Qithka nodded and said, “Welcome to caring then, Cym-Vargriform Dr. Zhem. You’re now hosting valuable medicines and curious shelf ornaments.”

Zhem spent the rest of the evening laying down four nervous Vargr into Low Berths. Qithka and Hew Hollowton spent the same time loading the four tons of Unusual Antifungals Freight and sixteen tons of Unusual Self-Solving Puzzles. “Unusual,” remarked the Cym to no one.

With the Portable Controller in her lap, Qithka set the Jump Drives, rigged for a 70D jump and had to keep an eye on the gauges and monitor Energy Points distribution for when the changeover from Maneuver Drive to Jump Drive would allow 30.8 tons of jump fuel to expend rapidly once the AI mashed a virtual COMMIT button of its own.

When the second safety was unlocked, Qithka saw the Defenses light up and show Green on their boards. The Panas Gankinra was equipped with both a Nuclear Damper and a Meson Screen though Qithka thought she would never see another Spinal Meson Gun in her lives since the Dame.

In her helmet connected to her Control Console Qithka could hear Hew intermittently reporting each Diameter passed as he looked through the Heads-Up Display at the helm.

“Have they seen us yet?” Qithka risked a question as if voicing aloud might give away the ship’s position.

“They haven’t moved or changed facing,” answered Shaa who was sitting at SensOps next to Hew at the helm. “If they have, they’re shrewd not to power up and begin thrusting.”

With the Safari Ship racing at maximum thrust of three gees and denied a turnaround, it meant the vessel was accelerating all the way to the target jump point as if to impact the 70 Diameter marker that was not there. Much like a missile, the wide Lifting Body was going to arrive at 70 D like a screaming space manta ray. Once the ship jumped though, it would keep its momentum all through the week out back. Upon breakout, the ship would spend at least two hours slowing back down. Qithka was glad then to have targeted a Gas Giant. Large diameter planetary bodies had greater jump shadows.

Hours of commute became minutes of commute when Capt. Gankinra reported, “We’re 250,000 kilometers from the mainworld, halfway to the bogey but two-thirds to seventy Dee. Hang in there, crew. Hew, keep it floored.”

Twenty minutes later as asteroids passed by the charging Fast Far Safari Ship, the Panas AI female voice calmly announced, “We have been locked by the unidentified Corsair. Vectoring now and thrusting on intercept course.”

“They’ve seen us!” Shaa called. “Hew, what’s our Dee?”

“Fifty-five D and climbing, Captain,” reported the Ursa nervously. “They’re gonna get a salvo off, huh?”

“Just one,” answered Shaa. “They think they’re sitting on our jump point. The Corsair is just as fast as us. See her M-Drive signature? Three gees performance.”

“Engagement orders?” Qithka called the question over the intercoms. If there was only time enough for 20 minutes of weapons exchange before jump, what was she doing in a Turret?

“We’re too far out for beams,” explained Shaa on the Bridge, “so keep those ready for point defense. If she fires missiles, we send ours at them as a going away present before we Flash them in the face in jump out back. Got me?”

“Understood,” acknowledged Zhem.

“Yes, ma’am,” nodded Qithka. Unless a missile took out the Panas Gankinra Jump Drive, this was going to be a very fast game of chicklizard.

“Won’t they follow us once we jump? They already know where we’re going.” It was Hew who was panting now. The Marine was not used to space combat.

“Ah, but they won’t be able to tell what part of Kfolaell we’re aimed, mainworld or a Gas Giant,” reassured Shaa.

Jump. It reminded Qithka to warn the Captain by saying, “Captain, the AI has not confirmed my pathing.”

“We never had time for that, girl,” answered Shaa. “Just stand by on the Drives and watch for incoming.”

No confirmation. No prior estimations accuracy. No way of knowing if there would be Blockage or Scatter. Qithka breathed more whispered prayers to the ascended hero Runetha Saetedz. This was the meat of adventurers like Runetha. Like Gevaudan.
 
The two starships were racing toward each other. Qithka watched on her targeting boards as the tactical feed from the Sensors gave her a full target lock on the Corsair. It felt so strange to be on the receiving end of Vargr piracy. She had faced Imperial Navy, Vargr navies, and now she was up against the most cunning pirates coreward of civilized space in this Far Far Future. Playing chicklizard was not her idea of controlled assault by Corsairs. With no Turnaround, there would be no room for maneuvers. The Panas Gankinra kept accelerating all the way to the jump point. Only a precision Ship’s Computer could press the button to jump in hitting 70 Diameters at that speed.

With no Turnaround and deceleration, the commute time to the jump point was fractionalized. There could be no room for error and no chance to correct them. Qithka prayed that Shaa’s Education in the Starn Navy and her years as a Merchant-Captain had paid off. Shaa was charging right into the jaws of the wolf.

Minutes became seconds when an alarm rang and the Panas AI declared, “Missile launch detected. Two Size 5 Missiles incoming.”

“Third safety off,” Shaa announced. “Let them have two of ours! Fire!” Then with a different tone of voice, Shaa commanded, “Panas, devote one Cell to Engineering for precision jump.”

“Compliance,” answered the Ship’s AI. “One Cell to Engineering Jump Drive.”

In her Turret, Qithka lined up on the Corsair and pulled the trigger, satisfied when her Size 5 Missile left the launch tube. So rarely had she ever sat in a Turret and truly fired. Most prey were already cowering in surrender. Even a single Size 5 Missile, if it exploded close enough to a hull, could obliterate a ship. The Panas was firing two, hers and Zhem’s. The sound of the Operator Guided Missile rocketed from the tube and was punctuated by silence. A blazing rocket trail became a diminishing twinkle as it sank into the starry night.

“Okay, Gunners,” called Shaa, “time to earn your pay. Incoming!” Two Corsair missiles had crossed paths with the Panas salvo. Qithka angled her Turret and sought for that perfect strike. She would get only one chance at point defense. And damn that Cym if he had not already fired, his Beam Laser played across one of the missiles, causing it to explode too early, harmlessly disintegrated before arrival. Qithka pulled her second trigger in a very long time. Her Beam Laser hummed and she wiggled its line as it caught the warhead of the second missile, blinding its guidance and rupturing its rocketry.

“Sixty-eight D!” Hew yelled as the Panas Gankinra blew through the two debris clouds of the remnant missiles. The Corsair was now highlighted by several boards in Qithka’s targeting. Just let that saw-toothed pirate inside 50,000 kilometers. The pirates would taste TL-16 Quad Hybrid Beam Lasers. Though hers were still charging from point defense, Qithka found her hair trigger digit claw.

“Up to you, Panas. Jump when ready.” Shaa had done all she could do from SensOps-Astrogation.

“Compliance.”

[Referee: cue music Thomas Bergersen - Fire In Her Eyes]

“Sixty-nine-,” Hew was cut off by the brilliant, dazzling, and dazing jump Flash emitted from the KFK-BL333 Panas Gankinra. The transpex front viewport polarized opaque before the Flash could blind those on the Bridge or in the Turrets.

Qithka sighed in the dim-lit Turret. Shaa had secretly ordered the jump at 69 Diameters instead of the seventy Qithka had suggested secondary. She took her trembling claws off the Turret controls and rubbed her temples. Shaa had tricked the Corsairs into thinking they could Interfere with the escape jump.

“Sensors confirm our Jump Field and our transit out back,” reported Shaa more calmly. “Safeties back on. Stand down Turrets. Qithka report to Engineering and devote minimal power from Life Support to the HEPlaR Drive. Hew will slow us down for an hour from inside our tiny universe.”

That’s right, thought Qithka. Though the Maneuver Drives were useless without a gravity well to push or pull upon, the High-Energy Plasma Recombustion thrust nozzles could affect a Turnaround and decelerate the ship, killing some or all of the starship’s momentum upon breakout Days from now. It would burn even more fuel, but the fourteen-and-change reserve tons of fuel were more than enough to employ three burns to slow the Panas Gankinra.

To Qithka02, Qitha01, and even the Dame, all three lives had to give admiration to Captain Shaa Gankinra. “M-Drive offline and H-Drive booting up, thrust available in two minutes,” reported the adolescent voice from her canid mouth.

“Do the thing, Hew,” commanded Shaa.
 
The roaring of the HEPlaR Drive was a thrill to Qithka Cannagrrh’s ears. It sounded nothing like the hum of the Maneuver Drive. The Vargr could feel the heavier vibration in the deck plates as she held onto the Operating Console. “Gauges steady. Down 4.1 tons this first burn.”

For though the nozzles spewed recombusted plasma in a pulsing burn of violet-purple thrust plume, it costed tons of fuel for such a small, backup Drive. Memories from the Dame’s era came to Qithka. Zhevra Cannagrrh reported using the tiny HEPlaR Drive on the Fast Far Scout Sixth Horizon in commuting across deep space, an empty Stellar Hex to approach a hidden calibration point forgotten and unused since the Fifth Frontier War. The refueling depot had allowed Zhevra to refuel and illegally run the Quarantine Line of Regency.

There was no true way of telling if the three burns had slowed the Panas Gankinra. Qithka had to trust that the Safari Ship had little momentum upon breakout in a week, (she hoped was less than more out back).

On trust, Qithka felt a Vargr smile creep across her lupine face. Standing down Engineering once the burns were complete, Qithka met Shaa Gankinra in the Commons. The two females came together in a shared hug. Shaa had trusted Qithka’s 69 Diameters judgement. Qithka had trusted Shaa’s Vilani starship tactics and shirking superstitious tradition in the face of Vargr piracy.

Qithka found herself licking the Human face, Vargr kisses as her tail would not stop wagging. In return, the Vilani sputtered from the tongue swipes but tweaked Qithka’s ears gently. Zhem trudged into the Commons from his Dorsal Turret Control Console to see the spectacle.

“That was some serious juevos, Captain,” rumbled Hew as he too entered the Galley-Commons joined compartment. “They could have eaten us for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“That’s why this special Vargr girl is my Engineer and I’m the Captain,” answered Shaa who managed to escape Qithka’s exuberance. “Well done, everybody. We can come down from general quarters and enjoy the week. But after that, we need to break out with vigilance. That Corsair could follow us. They know we’re jumping to Kfolaell.”

“Do we know if our two missiles landed?” asked the Ursa who ambled over to the Galley in search of something alcoholic.

Zhem answered that question, “We do not because our Jump Flash blinded every Sensor. I estimate 2.76 minutes to missile detonation after the jump at 69 Diameters, recalculated after the previous 70 Diameters target jump point.”

Qithka and Zhem spent the next few hours seeing to the Passengers, allowing them out of their Vaccsuits and welcoming them to the Commons again. Most were frazzled and needed two Stewards to calm down from the piracy event.

Qithka used her Portable Controller to show the tactical play-by-play to Hons. Ksaggor and Dhengkfu. Zhem continued to treat the healing Ksaggor as practice in his Medic skills. The thankful Vargr also received a new appreciation for Cym-Robots in the gentle care from a gentle, metal giant Vargriform. Qithka doubted the higher Charisma lady would have allowed a Robot of any other shape to treat her wounds.

Qithka calmed in watching the crew and Passengers mingle. She felt good about her pathing. Though there was no confirmation from the Ship’s AI, it looked Green to her. With Hew enjoying a canned brew and Shaa socializing with the four Middle Passengers, Qithka panted the last of her Personal Day and was sent to bed.
 
During her sleep, Qithka dreamed she was back aboard the Ares, the 800-ton Broadsword-class Mercenary Cruiser owned and operated by the Artemis Group back in the Dame’s years of the Fifth Frontier War. In his orange Hostile Environment Vaccsuit-14, Gevaudan was once again running and yelling at the top of his lungs, “General quarters! General quarters!”

The Ares was being pulled far too early from jump to Bowman (Spinward Marches 1132). Massive numbers of asteroids had been pulled from the local planetoid belt closest to Prometheus Station. The Ares was yanked out of jump earlier than expected and the gravity well of the rocks kept growing, bending the Jump Bubble into a cascading breakout complete with shifting gravity inside the Mercenary Cruiser. By the time Qithka could make it to the circular Bridge in this dream, she remembered she now had a personal, internal Psi-Shield instead of the helmets or cowls everyone was wearing at the time. Too many run-ins with Psions hounding the Ares…

The recollection of her newfound defenses reminded Qithka02 that she was dreaming of that suspenseful breakout, ejecting her from the nightmare of that era.

“Ancients,” grumbled Qithka as she rose from her bunk to dress in her lilac unitard and bundle inside her lavender poncho. Then she padded to the Common Fresher to straighten her bed-head with a brush and polish her teeth and bad breath with a toothbrush and paste.

Honorable Ksaggor entered the Common Fresher, the crew Common Fresher when the Passengers’ Shared Fresher was across the ship. With a mouth full of toothpaste and a brush, Qithka could not protest as she saw the middle-aged Vargr lady enter to use the facilities. The elder nodded to Qithka’s confused expression in the mirror and explained, “Your pet Bear is having a hangover in the other Fresher. I thought it was the males’ room, so I came over here.” Hew was having a hangover? How much had he imbibed while Qithka dreamed?

Qithka washed out her mouth to apologize to the Middle Passenger, “Apologies, Hon. Ksaggor. I will look into it. Please use ours. The Common Fresher services ten and we’ve only three and our Medic.”

“No hurry, youngster,” said Ksaggor with a gentle wag of her tail. Her elderly eyes were so dark in the irises that from the mirror, she looked as if her pupils were dilated to the corneas.

Qithka picked up her toiletries and stowed them in her Fresher locker. Ksaggor was washing her claws in the fold-down sink when she asked, “What Stage are you?” The question stopped Qithka in her tracks and she turned slowly to regard the higher-Charisma lady looking at her in the mirror as Qithka had when Ksaggor entered.

When Qithka could not answer, the older female tilted her head and augmented the question with, “I recognize the Psion’s poncho, young one. Zhodani-trained perhaps at your age?”

“S-Stage One, ma’am,” answered a now nervous Qithka. “And you?”

“I’m not,” answered the lady Vargr. “I took enough educational materials and my fair share of encounters to know what to ask, is all. Stage One then. You’re on a long path, Psion.”

“I-I must see to him, Hon. Ksaggor,” Qithka courteously bowed out of the encounter. A non-Psion knew what to ask upon suspicion of meeting a Psion. This had been part of the training on Ankhir.

“What does your pet do on this ship? Vermin control?”

“Honorable Ksaggor,” answered Qithka. “Pilot-Security Hew Hollowton is an Ursa sophont. He can answer more of your questions after I see to him in the Passenger Shared Fresher. I am again sorry for his intrusion.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” nodded the lady Vargr using double entendre.

Padding across the Crew Commons, Galley, and the spacious Passenger Commons, Qithka discovered Hew worshipping the head with his muzzle in the Shared commode. The Fresher was otherwise unoccupied.

“Hew,” huffed Qithka. “That third entree plus the spices on the megasalmon. Really?”

“You could have warned me we were going into a fight,” moaned Hew before heaving again into the bowl.

"How much did you drink last night?" demanded Qithka.

"It was over four-handed Fusion Prime with low hand must drink."

"Fool! Shaa Gankinra is the smartest Vilani I've ever met, even above Dimamda Aardalum during Qithka01's years. How bad was it?"

"I haven't flushed if you really wanna look." The Pilot looked pale, even for a huge ursine.

"I mean the game, stupid," growled Qithka, "and who played with you two? Four-handed means four players."

"Our Merchant and the politician Ksaggor."

"Unless everyone at the table is a Vargr, never play opposite two Vargr. Their paralanguage can telegraph bid sincerity. And then, Shaa is smart enough to count cards."

"We still talked," said Hew before hurling again. Qithka went to the fold-down sink and wet a small towel so she could tend the sick Ursa.

"I swear to the Creator, I'll never do that again," vowed Hew Hollowton.

With arriving Zhem's strength, Qithka and the Vargriform half-dragged the Ursa to his crew Cabin. Capt. Gankinra was not found outside her Captain's Cabin. Zhem reported that the Vilani woman took her lumps in cards though in smaller proportion.

Qithka laid Hew's blanket over the Ursa. They had to leave him on the deck as he was too big to lift and cram into his bunk.

In the corridor, Qithka turned to Zhem and asked, "Who is in command this watch?"

Zhem looked about and answered, "As the Chief Engineer and by default you are, Qithka Cannagrrh."
 
Qithka went into Steward mode with the Middle Passengers while Zhem concluded his treatment of Hon. Ksaggor. She did not see Hew or Shaa for the entire Day, Hew because he drank too much and Shaa because she was apparently a Vilani featherweight. She felt like the teenager just shy of drinking age when she knew she was technically “of age” in Vargr years. She had suffered this dilemma as Qithka01 Cannagrrh. Was she less than one year old? Her body was Force-Grown to apparent age 18. Her permanent personality overlay was over two-hundred years old. Her personality had remained in Charted Space for more than 900 years. That final consideration made Qithka feel like she was a Winkle, sophonts who time travelled via Low Berth, sleeping through centuries to wake intermittently and have a look about before returning to cryo-sleep.

Recipes Qithka prepared were the stuff of museums. Her dishes had been forgotten through the centuries of feast, famine, and again feast. The teenage cook had the guests on the culinary ropes as she worked to entice, only to get odd looks from the Middle Passengers.

It was a reserved First Meal served by Qithka. Capt. Gankinra was recovered and said little as Qithka kept up the social momentum. The Relict Clone eased into Dame mode by adopting the interview for Ksaggor and Dhengkfu. During the dinner, Qithka learned that Ksaggor was actually a Functionary of an ousted ruler who fell out of favor when he tried to prematurely end the Pastoral Age and attempt to open Taeksoudhagnou to the region as a quote Strong World unquote. Thus, Qithka02 learned what the term meant in this era of staying on one’s own mainworld or world-system indefinitely.

This inward turning or turning away from other worlds and stellar clusters that had led up to the saying The Wilds are not worth it because every world outside one’s own system could be judged as Wilds.

What was out there was a known thing, wasted worlds with wastes of sophonts either upholding their version the same saying or on a slow, spiral down to Die Back. Optimal gravity, atmosphere, and enough water were the basis for Strong Worlds with ample Resources only a think icing on the dessert.

Ksaggor’s superior had tried to force the issue, force the opening of Taeksoudhagnou to rejoin whatever was out there and left of the Dzen Aeng Kho. And when the people rose up, the mass consensus was to stay at home, guard their own, and to Ancients with everyone else out there in the starry night.

“That’s when he tried to Infight his opponent,” ended Ksaggor. “When he refused to yield, Zuegh took the duel too far and it killed him. I tried to intervene, but you know how that goes.” She held up her healing arm and shoulder bared by the dress ensemble she wore to First Night. The scars were being buried in new fur.

So, the party’s leader was dead and his attaché was escaping Taeksoudhagnou with her life, possibly to start a new one on Kfolaell.

Dhengkfu’s trip was less dangerous and more boring. The Merchant had tried his Unusual Antifungal product on Taeksoudhagnou and found no fungal problem existed there. Now, he was taking his Gentleman Trader tail to Kfolaell in hope of a demand for the remaining four tons he had to offer. This was the Freight contract Qithka had signed on to deliver.

“If I don’t catch a break at the next world,” said Dhengkfu, “I’ll have to truly work for a living.”

Qithka recalled what she knew of Kfolaell. She remembered the mainworld had started as an experiment in self-sustaining power and endless fuel resources. The floating cities of Kfolaell had blossomed and ocean surface platforms grew or became more numerous. The Vargr corporation Gvaeknoks had its roots on Kfolaell, the Wonderworkers - its name in Anglic - had done well throughout Gvurrdon Sector and rimward into the Spinward Marches. The problem was that Kfolaell at the time lay just inside the borders of the Society of Equals. Though claiming to trade equally with all business partners, the fools in the Council of Worlds bought into lies that Gvaeknoks was taking kickbacks from other polities and special interest groups such as the infamous Kforuzeng and the Third Imperium.

Gvaeknoks was forced to depart Kfolaell while maintaining a token office there on the oceanic metroplex to keep face. The Wonderworkers division in the Marches had done well but suffered under the Fifth Frontier War, the Equality War, the Rebellion and of course piracy as polities Collapsed in the 1130s when the Quarantine Line became paramount to trade and lines were cut out of fear of Virus infection.

With the loss of both Kfolaell and the cut off Wonderworkers division, Gvaeknoks moved laterally and further away from the Quarantine Line demanded by the Regency, the Zhodani Consulate (and their lapdog Thirz) from the Dzen Aeng Kho. The Thoengling Empire had fallen when breached, losing worlds down to a fifth of its former glory and relocating its Capital to Orsesokhin.

Gvaeknoks took up a new headquarters by enticing worlds left over from the dissolved Worlds of Leader Ruhk to form the Gvaeknoks Trade Union. And the rest was history to the Dame and Qithka01. The memories painted a beautiful picture of the attention Kfolaell enjoyed while allowing the rise and fall of corporations and polities. Qithka02 Cannagrrh wanted to know how well the Water world had fared here in 1902.

Qithka revealed none of what she recalled to the Middle Passengers. Her notes were on her starchart she had submitted to recovering Shaa Gankinra who fielded questions about her Safari Ship. Instead, she flicked her claw digits over the lavender poncho fabric between them. It was a comfortable fabric manually woven with skill and with subtle purpose and hidden message. I am a Psion, thought Qithka. I am a sophont, I am a citizen of the Dzen Aeng Kho. I am a person to be trusted; or so the beginnings of the Regency Psions Oath began. Zhevra had brought home the Oath to Dzuerongvoe after her quest to recover her mate-husband Gevaudan Cannagrrh.

Now that she was a Stage One Psion, Qithka’s true reason for including Kfolaell on the route was that High-Population and formerly High-Population worlds often featured public or concealed Psionic Institutes such as the Bureau of Psionic Relations on Ankhir. Qithka had awoken to psionics at the same time she had arrived at the Bureau, to decide whether to let the opportunity to slip through her claws and fade in decrepitude or to test herself and see how an 18-year-old Relict Clone could rate. The Bureau had answered and sent her forth to find other Psionic Institutes to continue the philosophical journey to find and realize her potentials along the way.

Qithka resolved to search Kfolaell and continue to Stage Two and see what it bodes for her Extra Sensory Perceptions, her Psi-Senses. How would she rate at psionic analogs of her physical senses? What would such double vision, double hearing, double touch and so on mean for her?

As Dhengkfu pontificated on his product in a presentation that was utterly boring, Qithka caught Hon. Ksaggor watching the teenager flick her digits with the woven poncho between them. A subtle smile and knowing tilt of the elderly lady’s lupine head told Qithka she too knew why the Vargr girl was crewing her way to Kfolaell.
 
Qithka's Eyes.jpg
* * *

Aside from being a loser at poker against Shaa Gankinra and two Vargr, the only other adversity Hew suffered was taking the Galley coffeemaker to the Makershop to re-wire the mesh filter bucket for the brewer component. At the Fifth Night party, Qithka had danced her fan dance for the applauding passengers. They had never seen folding fans before. The white pelt Vargr was beginning to include short fan tosses with her swaying and spinning motions. And Shaa had just crossed her birthday, though the Vilani refused to celebrate it during jump transit. Granny Shaa was now 54 and registered an annual review of her experiences concluding that she had improved as a SensOp and noting such on her Universal Personal Profile card.

The breakout to Kfolaell for Hew meant wearing his new ImpMVSU-10 or Improved Medium VaccSuit for Ursa at Tech 10, purchased on Taeksoudhagnou for which he had submitted his bodily measurements. Hew was not at all satisfied with what was produced for his bear-like form. Heavy Vibration made his limbs go numb. The Faulty Manipulator Joints made doing anything exacting not worth the trouble while suited. The Unsteady weight distribution forced the Ursa to all-fours because ambling on his rear legs became a tightrope walk. The Stamina Option was kinder on him and he did not at all mind that the Interior Ran Cold as it kept him from sweating inside the thing. It was just a bad break for the Options the Vaccsuit came with. Hew decided he would buy a different model with after a couple of paydays from the Captain.

Though the crew of the Panas Gankinra was on alert and at general quarters for the return from out back, Shaa looked relieved that the Vargr Corsair was not found on Sensors. The commute to the Large Gas Giant Q in Orbit 2 was delayed by the G3 main sequence star's jump shadow. Hew found that it was easier and shorter trip to simply change course and vector directly for the mainworld Kfolaell in Orbit 3 just inside the 100 Diameter limit. Shaa agreed, mainly because it could throw off the Corsair ship should it arrive either at the mainworld or the targeted Gas Giant. The Safari Ship would be flying between the two while under Stealth Mask. The Vilani gave the order to which Hew smiled. He had subtly influenced a decision on this ship. He was not just the Bear on the helm. He smiled inwardly to alter course.

Once the crew were certain they could commute directly to the mainworld under stealth, Hew was happy to get out of his Vaccsuit. The flight from 100 Diameters was watched, Sensors on Passive and looking out for an arriving jump Flash. While the crew took watches on the Bridge, Hew was called upon by a Medium Passenger to fix the air quality control panel in a Cabin. The selector bar had broken off and stuck the poor Vargr in a freezer of quarters.

The dish antennas of Tech 6 Kfolaell received Shaa's initial, handshake tight beam signal. Strings were exchanged and that drew Qithka's attention. The Vargr girl came trotting fresh out of the Fresher blow dryer and dressed in her unitard and poncho to arrive on the Bridge. To Hew, Qithka needed to compare what she remembered to present Kfolaell. Her tail drooped and her ears flattened. This Water world had tumbled from interstellar to barely nuclear power. Ahead on the Scopes as the Panas Gankinra lined up for orbital approach were the floating cities, glittering metal plates flat on the ocean surface.

There was a remnant Highport in orbit, but it was surrounded by warning Nav Beacons. The orbital dock was long offlined. Now, only chemical rockets lifted to the platform. It still had to be patrolled by Security sweeps, an expensive asset unusable at this time.

Communications and weather satellites about the mainworld were still in use, but they remained unmanned. Shaa Gankinra gave the Green light to begin reentry. The Safari Ship could still draw water from the oceans at the Downport D landing pads. The reduced population from Qithka's remembered High yielded plenty of parking space. Traffic was limited to nuclear powered aerodynes. Kfolaell remembered its previous Tech Levels but was unable to keep them after the Collapse and Interregnum. The Pastoral Age had its say.

"They're a little nervous at a starship arrival, but we are allowed to land," reported Shaa who muted her Comms headset microphone. "No sudden maneuvers, helm."

"Aye, Captain," answered Hew. The winds of the blue skies over Kfolaell were fast. He found the glidepath enjoyable as the Safari Ship descended through reentry toward the signaling Downport D degraded from B of a previous time. Shaa highlighted the still-active Planetary Aerospace Defense Systems, or PADS, emplacements adjacent to the landing pads and nearby Terminal.

"What flag do they fly?" asked Qithka who should have gone to bed by now. Hew wondered how much of Qithka's home polity was left in the region.

Shaa nodded to the Relict Clone and answered, "They claim allegiance to your Society of Equals, though I don't believe they can contribute in this state." The Vilani then opened several holographic Sensors boards to display the empty landing pads and no spacecraft traffic. "They're only flying your flag to have something to raise up the flagpole."

Hew saw entire floating cities dormant as the Safari Ship glided past each in the planetary mapping survey ordered by Shaa. The population had slipped from Qithka's remembered tens-of-billions to only 40 million as reported by the string exchange on Comms.

The touchdown at Kfolaell Glittering Platform was textbook. Hew had to turn about and face the starship into the wind so as to ease forward slowly and onto the circular landing pad. Aerodynes knifed the skies above the Panas Gankinra, reminding the visitors that the mainworld could still defend its skies if not space.

"Is there a single world out here that charges less than four thousand Credits for Berthing?" complained Shaa aloud. Qithka had gone to bed for her customary four-hour sleep as Hew and Shaa shut down the Safari Ship. Outside in the surface winds, crews scrambled to connect umbilical power and extra hoses to the Intake and Intake Purifier. Using the onboard systems was faster than buying unrefined fuel locally. If a ship could draw from the oceans below the metroplex platforms, then the fee was thankfully waived. Shaa began the slow sipping action of the refueling and purification operation.

A standard atmosphere greeted the crew. Capt. Gankinra stopped Hew from taking his Peacekeeper off the ship. "No shotguns is the law here, Mr. Hollowton." BuddySystem it was then. The Vilani paired with the Ursa for their first Day on the Startown adjacent the Downport. The sale of the Unusual Self-Solving Puzzles called. Shaa needed more fangs money to pay the Downport fees. The offloading of the Passengers was overseen by Zhem as Qithka slept.
 
* * *

When Qithka woke up hours later, she found messages of instructions from Capt. Gankinra for the Freightmaster to unload both the Freight and the Self-Solving Puzzles. Zhem was still onboard though Shaa and Hew had paired and left for Trade and liberty. Happily, Zhem reported that he had discharged the Medium Passengers and none of the sleepers had perished in transit. Additionally, the scents of dinner in the Galley called Qithka to the table, a meal for one since it was likely the Vilani and the Ursa were eating in town. The meal was a large poultry leg drizzled in hot chili-spiced butterbee honey mounted atop brown rice with fried egg interspersed. Qithka washed down the food with an energy drink from a can. The meal energized her fully, ready to unload the cargo hold. Thanking Zhem with added feedback, she saw the Vargriform wag his tail just a little more believably Pathos-struck with glee.

Another message from via the Panas AI ordered Qithka to pair with Zhem if she was to leave the ship. That, and to lock the door upon disembarking. This openly announced message from the Captain caused Zhem to wag his tail again. Qithka was stuck with the Cym-Robot on a Tech 6 world. Since she was to seek out a Psionic Institute, Qithka might have to sweet-talk the locals into allowing Zhem through the door. It was not like he could test or train for psionics. Zhem was not a biological. And that realization told Qithka that Psionics would always be a mystery to the silicon sophonts she once called Virus.

After sealing the inner and outer airlock and ordering intrusion countermeasures from the Panas AI, Qithka and Zhem set out from the Concourse and Terminal for the Startown. Even if no longer High-Population, Qithka had to hope that a remnant of a Psionic Institute might be hiding in plain sight. And it was.

Right across the nominal Extrality Line, a sliding blast door against typhoons opened the Startown of Glittering Platform. Qithka was hit in the face with flying rubbish that had been picked up by the seaside winds and thrown in her face. Caught in the muzzle, the Vargr teenager read the flyer.

Unlock the well of serenity within.

Join us for guided meditation. And see tranquility for yourself.

Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens

At the bottom of the picture of a hanging garden and wide, grassy lawn under a geodesic dome was the World Triangle, World Hex, Local Hex, and island address to the Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens. Qithka smiled at the crumpled and windblown advertisement. Two World Triangles away, Gvaeknoks (Gvegh for Wonderworkers) name had gone from a trade interfacing line of the Dame and Qithka01’s eras, revamped and rebranded as a False Institute. It was the translation of Gvaeknoks and its context which changed the usage from trade and shipping to thaumaturgists. In this light and in the context of the innocent advertisement, Qithka had found her Psionic Institute. But to reach the Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens in a distant dome adjacent a rocky outcrop island anchoring it to the Local Hex, Qithka and Zhem would need a seaplane, a flyer that could land on the sea surface.

With such a remote location for a world of decreased population, Qithka guessed that the Gardens would have a hotel or some kind of lodging for visitors seeking the advertised tranquility, also feeding fangs into the coffers of the true Psionics Institute buried under the false one. Even if it was false, Qithka found the flyer image beautiful and would have gone to take a load off as a non-Psion.

Purchasing a ticket at the Downport for a commuter seaplane, Qithka took Zhem as her ‘luggage’. The Vargriform did not seem to care about standing in the deck square reserved for her supposed luggage. Dressed in her poncho, the Relict Clone boarded the commuter without having to step into the fangs-plucking allure of the Glittering Platform Startown and capital city of the mainworld.

Oceans with tiny islets or atolls slid under the seaplane. The engines were loud and Qithka found herself changing seats closer to the cockpit. There were very few locals on this flight, tourists perhaps to Qithka.

Convoy watercraft fleets bore stacks of cargo containers from one floating city to another. At this altitude, Qithka could tell the inhabited cities from the closed, sealed, and locked arcologies from former eras. One arcology was a skeletal super-hulk of its former design. She did not ask the flight attendant what happened on Kfolaell to reduce the world population from billions to millions. Such might have happened abruptly centuries ago, or it may have been a slow burn down due to emigration or emergent exodus.

The seaplane landed at the stark island, a jutting spear of rock stabbing through the surface and ringed with an anchored platform. Pneumatic pistons allowed the platform to cushion against sea currents and weather while maintaining its position around the rocky outcrop. A short coral shelf provided visible, underwater splotches of colors about the platform. Domes at cardinal compass points created a pattern about the rock.

He did not need to do so, informing on Qithka’s every move, but Zhem had enthusiastically called Shaa on his personal Comm to inform the Captain of the commute, the destination’s world address in Triangles and Hexes. As if she had some older sibling snitching on her, Qithka folded her arms and endured the report from the Vargriform. Then she told the Cym-Robot that she was to stay here a week at the local hotel. She had found the Psionic Institute on Kfolaell even if it was disguised as a tranquil meditation garden of hanging, flowering vines from dome trellises, raked sands about

At this news, Zhem was all the more excited. The Cym was to stick close to Qithka, giving him an opportunity to see Psionic Stage training, Qithka’s next Stage up close and record what he experienced. Qithka suddenly became curious about this. What could a Cym-Vargriform gain by watching Qithka meditate only to be subtly invited from the Gardens and into the true Institute? Would a Cym gain anything other than more questions for her later?

Checking into the hotel was much faster than Qithka had expected. The computers of Kfolaell were not devoid of a planetary IsleWeb network. This was a step up from Tech 5 Ankhir, streamlining the process of renting a room for the week, securing admission to the Gvaeknoks Zen Garden and a place to “find tranquility” under the geodesic and prismatic Garden dome. The other domes housed this town’s employees and dock workers for ships and seaplanes. Trade was here too though the main tourism lie with the Wonderworkers.

The sign on the tori entrance read the name of Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens with a slogan, Taking what is already present and working wonders with it. Subtle encouragement for the public to purchase admission and enjoy guided meditations and peaceful gardens, the slogan was sly in defining the thaumaturgists taking the name from a former era handed down through the centuries. Qithka had to guess that this island platform might even be a former trade depot for the antique corporation here on Kfolaell before their board uprooted for Orz parsecs rimward to form the Gvaeknoks Trade Union. Without a starchart for that subsector, Qithka had no idea if the GTU was still around in this Pastoral Age. Likely not, given the lack of interstellar traffic this deep in the Wilds.

Ports in the overhead dome at the Gardens allowed in rainwater to treat the hanging vines and fragrant flowers. Vargr architecture stood in sparse but open floors, each housing an hourly guided meditation. Qithka made pretense as one of the tourists in walking the grounds, dodging falling rainwater dripping from the dome ports as a cloudburst emptied on the island and platform. Finally, she sat down with Zhem standing in a corner of a shrine-like building and waited for a meditation class to begin. Many facilitators wore gardening overalls and uniforms, but Qithka spied a few employees wearing ponchos of various solid colors. Those were the Psions of Gvurrdon Sector, those not of the Thirz or Zhodani influence. Many of these ‘thaumaturgists’ helped classes or raked the sands or tended the gardens. However, Qithka knew her psionic brethren whether they spoke to her or simply nodded. When tourists moved on, the subtle and coded conversation starter began with, “Greetings and welcome to Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens. What Stage are you?”

“Stage One,” Qithka had answered to one of the Thaumaturges. Earning her a nod, allowing her to pay her Fa10,000 tuition, Qithka was then invited to sit with the class and meditate with the tourists. But midway through the session, she was telekinetically tapped on a shoulder by a nearby Psion to rise and follow that Vargr deeper into the Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens.

Zhem would not let Qithka out of her sight and she had to explain this to a poncho Thaumaturge via having her mind read. Once her intentions were deemed pure and sincere, the hulking Vargriform was allowed down the descending steps into what became the Kfolaell Thaumaturgical Order, the true Psionic Institute.
 
* * *

To use the word incredible for Zhem was illogical because he found he could not doubt the input analysis from his chassis sensors. Improbable percentages calculated kept dropping for the Cym as he followed Qithka and her attendant Vargr Thaumaturge downstairs through the watery platform and into a reverse of the dome above it. The photic zone bowl was also transparent though fully reinforced as a wide-open aquarium of the fishes, corals, and other sea flora and fauna. Platforms connected by stairs and elevators allowed one to view the entire underwater panorama from any scaffolding platform under the anchors to the rocky island. Sunlight filtered and refracted down from the surface as it was bent to illuminate the seascape below the waves. Many species Zhem was able to target and identify from Library Data, but there were specimens swimming in the lit shallows he could not name.

But the amazing thing was not the pleasing vista all about the landings, steps and furniture near clear polymer text cases, no. Zhem could feel his Pathos rising to 78% and labeled it gratitude. In this gratitude for being allowed to see a thing the Cym had not seen in all his lives as Ship’s Computers, Planetary Nodal Networks, Communications Satellites, compressed and sleeping ‘egg’, and so many other existences. His Pathos shot up another 2% when he realized he was happy for the experience, happy for Qithka, pleased to experience something utterly new. He was attending a true Psionics Institute. It did not matter if he would never be able to perform the so-called Aptitudes, Extra-Sensory Perceptions, and Extra-Corporeal Manipulations. Cyms could already do things no biological could hope to attain. And this realization put Zhem more in his place in Charted Space. He swelled with a-…pride for Qithka who was invited to sit at any scaffolding landing in the aquarium bowl and begin training in the ESPs, the supposed Psi-Senses. Zhem remembered to keep himself in check and record what his sensors detected. He could feel his estimated Onwee dropping. New capability in Qithka held Zhem’s curiosity. What wonders!

Today, Qithka was to sit and attempt Psi-Vision and see how she rated with help from instruction manuals, nearby computer terminals, and a cycling of Vargr Thaumaturges who traded as they could to help the Vargr teenager take in new sensor inputs, senses Cym was curious to hear about from Qithka.

At first, Qithka began with a somatic gesture to open her Psi-Vision. She tried an index digit touch to the spot between her eyebrows. When that failed, she tried a second suggestion which worked. Slowly swiping her claw over her eyes and then raising it in a gesture that meant to suggest closing the physical eyes and open her psionic eye (or eyes, Zhem could not tell which), Qithka’s mouth fell open as he turned her head and gazed about. She practiced her new Psi-Vision until she grew tired and had to stop for the Day and return to the hotel with Zhem’s help.

In similar ways, Qithka returned each day that week to the Kfolaell Thaumaturgical Order under the Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens and tried to reveal a new Psi-Sense. Zhem watched quietly and diligently recorded as the young Relict Clone found she had Psi-Hearing and with it enjoyed the music of distant cetacean song in the waters off the island shelf. She was brought to tears to hear such things so far beyond her Vargr ears and in pitches that Zhem nodded in familiarity. His sound sensors could hear such frequencies and more but was subject to physical insulation. Qithka did not seem to suffer physical barriers blocking sound waves, be they carried in atmosphere, liquid, or vibrations through solids.

Qithka’s third day of Stage Two training was sort of a letdown. She spent all Day trying to Psi-Smell the flowers in the hanging garden from floors below the upper dome. Try as she might, the Vargr Psi-Smell sense did not evidence. And this was a strange anomaly to Zhem because his experience taught him that the olfactory was a primary sense for Vargr. Qithka and every Vargr Zhem ever met was deeply dependent on their noses and scent analysis. Zhem could smell too, but lack of Psi-Smell sense seemed anomalous.

On the fourth day, Qithka was again let down that she could not Psi-Touch. This was not unknown to her Thaumaturge instructor, but the Vargr explained that many Vargr did not display such ESP through the analogous Psi-Touch. Two Psi-Senses were now not part of Qithka’s repertoire and it was almost disheartening-…(disheartening?) to see Qithka fail in some realm of her training.

Psi-Awareness failed Qithka too. Though she sat near heavy and light magnets, moved closer and further away from electrical outlets or power generators, solar panels in the Garden, Zhem was powerless to see that Qithka could not feel Mag and Lek fields with her ESPs, a third Psi-Sense denied her. This discovery reduced Zhem’s Pathos to a descending 51% enthusiasm for Qithka. And he had high hopes for her. For though the Cym had purposely chosen a Vargriform chassis that approximated Vargr senses, he could recall from memory all the times he in another form had detected electrical fields, magnetic fields and even bio-magnetic fields of sophonts.

Qithka returned on her sixth Day in the Thaumaturgical Order to be shocked by a new discovery and learn that it was a double-edged sword. Though her sensitivity to so-called Poice was weaker than her Psi-Vision and Psi-Hearing, Qithka could sense life. Psi-Perception was hers to be perceptive to the presence of life forms, from Petri dishes of contained molds, to insects, vermin, small animals, to the Vargr tourists up to her fellow Psions. Life all about the aquarium bowl teemed and spoke a symphony of living entities to her, each with a Poice small or great.

The Thaumaturge today warned Qithka within sound range of Zhem that she needed to careful with Perception. New life, such as births and end of life with death would have powerful effects on her should she wave her claw over her face and be opened to Poice. Mass death had a voice of its own and could drag her down with it, the Poice of fading life. To Zhem it sounded like sympathetic Onwee transmitted observed from another Cym and subsequently resonated by the observer. To be purposely opened to psychic Rust, Deconditioning, or critical Onwee was indeed an inverse of the gift of life detection.

“You’re Cympathetic, Qithka,” guessed Zhem as the two returned to the hotel and were alone in her room. She had lived out of this hotel some Days now. “We Cyms can measure another Cym’s Rust, Deconditioning, and Onwee, much like you can feel the strength of a life force in biologicals. I am amazed that there are biologicals that can do this. You are amazing, Qithka Cannagrrh.

“Thank you, Zhem,” nodded the teenager with a polite demurring downturn of her nose and muzzle. Tomorrow I graduate Stage Two, with printout reports of my ESPs and their ratings. When I can, I might add them to my UPP Card, or not if it looks like a world might be hostile to psionics.

“Your journal!” exclaimed Zhem. “You can journal in your book this Stage in your psionics path.”

“Correct,” agreed Qithka. That night, Qithka sat at the hotel room desk and wrote in Gvegh, Anglic, Zdetl and Vilani her logged development in psionics. Zhem found the Author in the teenage body wording aloud each sentence. He did not have to look over her shoulder or spy from across the room at her penmanship.

On the seventh Day of her Stage Two training, Qithka was met in the Thaumaturgical Order aquarium by the instructors she had met and cycled through. Each had a typed out or dictated a report on her Extra-Sensory Perceptions, her Psi-Senses. While three expressed condolences that Psi-Smell, Psi-Touch, and Psi-Awareness were not hers, the other three noted her Psi-Vision, Psi-Hearing, and Psi-Perceptions were slightly above Vargr norm. This was normal to them because blind Vargr tended to compensate with normal Vargr hearing, touch, and smell to get by without sight. In this way, Qithka’s Psi-Senses had compensated in psychic sight, sound, and perception.

“Light, Sound, and Life are not just sensory inputs anymore Psion Qithka,” advised an instructor. “You can experience intense stimuli of any of these if you are opened to them. As with your mundane senses, be careful what you poke your nose into, hmm?”

Qithka received laminated hardcopy of the reports. Somatic gestures of all kinds were saluted to the new Stage Two Psion Qithka before she was dismissed from the Kfolaell Thaumaturgical Order and its Gvaeknoks Zen Gardens. Only another Psionic Institute could continue this philosophical path deeper into the realm of the psychic disciplines.
 
* * *

A week of vacation liberty for Hew meant a payday, a tour of the Glittering Platform Startown, plenty of sightseeing and a plethora of surprised stares from the local Vargr population. The Ursa on all-fours and escorting the Vilani Human on a floating city on the ocean surface should have lost its novelty by now. Humans Vargr knew. Ursa they did not know. Vargr cubs went scattering from Hew Hollowton when he had to rear up and use his front paws to dig out his UPP Card and prove his sophont status to some tavern, restaurant, or other establishment he and Shaa Gankinra visited. The grandmother Vilani was assumed a sophont which was getting old to Hew. What was so alien about him that a bunch of uplifted wolves could not accept? Did it matter that both races were uplifted, Vargr by the so-called Ancients and Ursa by the hated Solomani, GenAssist corporation of antiquity?

Whether it was duty or curiosity, Hew and Shaa were stopped by the local Vargr cops on a ‘random’ check. Hew had to stand up, put his paws on a wall as he was patted down by Vargr claws. Out of a sense of completion, Shaa endured her groping with more dignity. As a Traveller, she knew the score: their world, their rules.

One suggestion that Hew received from the cops was for the Human to keep the huge Hew on a leash. Something about animal leash laws. This angered Hew though he held is tongue. He wanted to remind these Vargr of Terran wolves, but also doubted that Vargr this far coreward would know what a wolf was even if Hew described it to them. Bears were not pets and Ursa less so, especially as a sophont. But because he did not speak Gvegh, Hew had to rely on Shaa Gankinra for translations and explanations.

There were Vargr complaints about Hew’s scent. The lupine race had a good sense of smell, just as sensitive as Ursa. Though Shaa promised she would bathe the ‘Bear’, the Marine reminded the Vilani that he would then smell like wet Bear instead of just Bear. Did the Captain want that inside the Panas Gankinra?

Hew did take a day from the ship to go snorkeling in the shallow photic zone waters just outside the city. Shaa watched from the railing as the Ursa used a larger Vargr snorkel to paddle along and look at the brilliant corals and reef fishes. His huge form scared most away though he did see a few shadowy megalodon predators in the deeper waters. Other Vargr divers and aquaculture farmers waved at the Ursa. No words underwater but gestures were far more welcoming and social.

The winds blowing off the platform edge dried the Ursa so that he and Shaa Gankinra could enjoy a dinner on the veranda of a seaside restaurant. Then the Captain treated him to a panoramic holovid of some Vargr production titled Corsair Queen, a drama about some Vargr pirate who led not only a band of cutthroats but more than three navies in some historic event to conquer Corridor Sector. Hew thought it overblown and dramatized as all Vargr Charisma did to such productions.

But because the holovid was a 360-degree display, Shaa demanded to see it twice so she could see another angle as the story of Vaenggvae Corsairs played out in the space battles led by Corsair Nougzoel.

“I don’t get this romanticism over Vargr piracy,” complained Hew to Shaa.

Shaa answered with, “To the Vargr, it is the thrill of railing against the system, breaking rules, pushing the envelope, taking charge of one’s life and living it to the utter fullest. It is Charismatic and many Vargr enjoy following such a leader if they cannot become one themselves. Basking in the glow as it were.”

“I’d feel safer on the right side of the law,” countered Hew.

“Oh?” said Shaa with the rise of her Human eyebrows. “What size is your neck and how long a leash would you prefer, Mr. Hollowton?”

“Don’t tell me there are Vilani pirates too, huh?”

“Of course,” nodded the grandmother. “I have had my share of jumpcussers and extortion pirates who were Vilani. Piracy is not a Vargr monopoly, Hew.”

For her birthday, Hew bought an anklet jewelry piece for Shaa. The thick link chain was sizable for Vargr or Humans and Hew presented it to the Captain as a late present. Back at the Safari Ship that night, the 54-year-old waited as Hew’s paws fumbled to clasp the simple white gold chain. “There,” he said after the third try.

“Thank you, Hew,” said Shaa using his name more readily now.

“Happy Late Birthday. I wonder what Qithka and the doc will get you.”

Hew blew off the rest of the week by lounging under the port wing of the Panas Gankinra. Shaa visited his lounge chair guard post in the shadow of the Safari Ship, bringing him a case of beer, snacks she had purchased in town and the last of three Portable Controllers. “Here,” she said. “It won’t fly the ship, but you’ve earned your place well and above expectations, Hew Hollowton.” Assigned a Portable meant trust from the Vilani. Hew spent the rest of the week fiddling with the Portable as Shaa conducted outgoing Trade in the markets via the IsleWeb terminal in the Freight Yard and the Cargo Market in the Downport Terminal.
 
* * *
Shaa Gankinra.jpg
The inbound trade week for Shaa Gankinra had been rocky without help from Qithka. The safe call from Zhem had at least told her where Qithka was headed, down Triangle, World Hex, Regional Hex, Local Hex. The Cym was exacting. It left Shaa to sell the sixteen tons of Unusual Self-Solving Puzzles. The release of the Passengers added to the speculatives paid out 131,400 Fangs or Fa as it was abbreviated on Society of Equals member worlds. Then came the bills for Berthing, Life Support, paying her crew including Dr. Zhem who had saved her life. The week wore on as Shaa conducted outgoing trade.

Her years as a Merchant-Captain paid off despite the hurdles of being Vilani this deep in the Wilds and chest deep in Vargr all about her in the Freight Yard and Cargo Market at the Kfolaell Glittering Platform Downport. Shaa thought of buying sound suppressor earplugs to muffle the cacophony of barks, growls, snarls and actual Gvegh words. She had trouble enough trying to impose her own sense of self-worth without such guttural voicing in the local language.

Despite the clean air and the oceanic horizon full of a week’s sunrises and sunsets, there were Gvegh Vargr willing to migrate to higher-tech worlds. Shaa signed on four Middle Passengers and four Low Passengers easily though the going rate here was less than the Vilani Captain would have liked. Where was that Qithka when she needed her? One of her Middle Passengers offered Freight alongside his ticket to the next world on Qithka’s route. Shaa meant to make sure her vacationing Freightmaster loaded the ten tons of Quality Attractants, pheromonal air freshener scents deemed “positively magnetic” to Vargr noses. Then came the safer Quality Bulk Foodstuffs Shaa purchased in the Cargo Market. Kfolaell had an excellent blend of sea fauna and greens, packed in ice inside refrigerated cargo containers. Ten tons of food next to ten tons of au de Vargr as the Solomani might call it. This venture put Shaa down to Fa83,800 since her Republic of Regina Credits were no good out here in the Wilds.

At the end of the week, Shaa Gankinra found herself joining Hew Hollowton in her own deck chair under the starboard wing across from the Ursa. The Pilot-Security was technically on-task, guarding the docked Safari Ship. He had his beer, his snacks, his Mora Peacekeeper Shotgun where the local cops could not immediately see it. Shaa enjoyed a swim in a fenced swimming area meant for Vargr cubs and adolescents. In her reserved single piece swimsuit, the grandmother enjoyed a dip and then a shaded day under the Panas Gankinra. Both she and Hew had their Portable Controllers out and were perusing the IsleNet through the filter of the Panas AI and connection to the Downport. Thank Ancestors that Berthing came with IsleNet use though Tech 8 planetary nets were faster.

Shaa lounged in her deck chair and wore her Cool Sunglasses-5 from Pandrin to guard her eyes against the setting sun when Qithka02 Cannagrrh arrived in her lilac unitard and draped in her lavender poncho, a white Vargr girl under shades of purple. Shaa herself preferred the hues of crimson, maroon, and rose red though sometimes it looked more like blood red. Behind the Freightmaster trudged the metallic tower of robotic metal and myelofibrins Dr. Zhem in his wide brim hat, leather duster, pleated kilt and that goofy triple-extra-large T-shirt with a smiley face and some obscure reference - something about Otto.

The two ladies came together in a brief hug, then backed away for a more formal reunion. “The maroon swimsuit suits you, Shaa,” said Qithka. “I approve.”

“Your lavender and lilac on white are clashing to my eyes, but probably look very charismatic to Vargr eyes.” The two females traded stories of the week, Shaa’s sightseeing with Hew and her trade forays into the IsleNet to do business. Qithka in turn spoke reservedly but honestly about her next training in psionics. The Vargr girl was now what she called a Stage Two Psion. No weird powers yet, but Qithka could see, hear and…sense life? Denying explanative details, the Vilani pointed at the waiting speculatives and Freight. Tomorrow, the ship would lift after Passengers were in place.

Shaa went back to her sunset lounging as Qithka and Zhem began loading the Safari Ship using hand-pump hydraulic jacks instead of the higher-tech grav-jacks. The Vilani watched to see if Qithka might try some psionic trick or power for technique she had not seen yet of the very few Psions she had encountered during her Careers.

Hew Hollowton tossed his rubbish and picked up his guard post to greet Qithka before heading into the ship. Shaa watched as Qithka and Hew clasped claws in reunion. He was too big for the small-bodied Relict Clone to hug while standing upright like that. Sunset colors yielded to the first stars above Kfolaell, the end of a short vacation in taking Qithka home.

Vilani tradition of Starship Operations would not catch Shaa Gankinra dead or working the Captain’s position in her maroon swimsuit. The next Day, Shaa was dressed in her Cloth-8 ship uniform and welcoming the Middle and Low Passengers. Dr. Zhem split off the sleepers to the Medical compartment while Qithka and Shaa distributed the Passenger Cabins. Next stop on Qithka’s starchart route was a world named Oesar Gin, a name out of the past.

With a full cargo hold of goods, a Safari Ship of Passengers, Shaa reported to the Bridge when Qithka retreated aft to Engineering, her previous lives returning to work for the young Relict Clone. Setting the Comms earphones and boom microphone on her head, Shaa called, “Tower, KSK-BL333 Panas Gankinra powering up and seeking taxi and lift window to orbit.” Vargr on the other end of the line barked their racist protests at a Human on Comms but since Shaa was a paying customer, they granted aerospace window to Boost to the morning skies after all had a good night’s sleep.

Early morning air traffic snarled as a lift window for a full starship was yielded. Then came a pack of - no, a horde of cops running at Vargr speed and dashing toward the Safari Ship.
 
“Crew, there’s a hold on our lift. Hew, we have law enforcement demanding we open the hatch for a quick review of our hold and Passengers.”

Shaa Gankinra spent the next hour with guns pointed at her as Vargr cops stormed the Panas Gankinra much to her protest. A Middle Passenger was arrested for information smuggling, several tens of data laserdiscs were confiscated from that Vargr’s luggage. Hew looked like he wanted to fight off all the officers but Shaa had him stand down. The police were after this one Passenger who thankfully was not the pheromone Attractant merchant. That could have been another pain to unload. Shaa was forced to refund the Fa5000 for the wanted info-smuggler but was glad that the cops did not suspect Qithka of being a Psion. She had not researched the laws on Kfolaell enough to judge it safe for the Relict Clone. Psionics may have been legalized in the Republic of Regina, but this was the Wilds.

Down to three Middle Passengers, Shaa was finally given reluctant permission to let Hew Boost to Orbit. It took Hew far too long to Boost, attain orbit, climb to Far Orbit, and then vector toward a plausible 100 Diameter jump point from Kfolaell. Had his vacation been too long?

Qithka came forward to run her Astrogation pathing for which Shaa stood up from SensOps-Astrogation Console to let her calculate a three-parsec jump.

With Hew’s vectoring errors, Qithka was able to take six full hours to easily pass what would have been a little difficult by Shaa’s estimation. The confirmation from the Panas AI would come 24 hours later as the Safar Ship commuted outside the Kfolaell stellar primary jump shadow and well beyond the 100 Diameter limit of both the mainworld and its homestar.

With no traffic outbound from Kfolaell, Shaa retreated from the Bridge while Qithka argued with Hew and his piloting. The Vilani Captain sat in the Commons with her Portable Controller and monitored the Sensors while enjoying a fruit drink.

Though one of the Middle Passengers stayed in his Cabin, Shaa was able to meet and greet the other two male Vargr. The merchant who was also shipping the pheromonal Attractants immediately pinged Shaa's radar as a perverted creep. Yes, the Attractants were pheromonal and keyed to female Vargr sense of smell, preference, taste and were subtle enough to be missed as light-touch air freshener. The worse part was that the pheromones were also aphrodisiac in nature. The creep assured the Captain that the high-pressure tanks in the Freight containers were safety rated and sealed. The thought of using stealth scents to provoke lady Vargr into intercourse was repugnant to Shaa. Still, there was no law against helping Oesar Gin along in its population centers. According to the pervert, the world-system was trying to attract new settlers to build new lives there.

The militant sitting across from the sex scent peddler refused to talk to the merchant. He did admit to being a gun-for-hire, a mercenary. Formerly a Soldier, the ex-Homeguard Captain had grown tired of amphibious assault theatres and patrols of the emptied anchor-cities. Hence, he was migrating to Oesar Gin to possibly join a Vargr mercenary unit. He had learned that Oesar Gin was now named Oesar Gin Due since it was now a Captured world-system by nearby Aegadh. This was new to Shaa Gankinra and she made mental note to update Qithka's starchart to plant a '6' on the Government of Oesar Gin Due, with its suffix.

Shaa knew that Hew and this Captain would get along for the duration out back. Just from her single term in NOTC, there had been this unspoken and subtle brotherhood between members of the armed forces of any branch. An Ursa Marine and a Vargr Soldier might hit it off in comparing stories, theatres and displaying of their guns weapons to each other. Hew's Mora Marines Peacekeeper Shotgun was the biggest of its kind Shaa had ever beheld. The deathmonger seemed to fit at home in Hew's paws.

As for the merchant, Shaa Gankinra made note to warn her Freightmaster that her nose might get her into trouble if she was not careful in the cargo hold. "What did the info-smuggler attempt to bring with him?" asked Shaa to the merchant and the mercenary. The merchant shrugged. He did not know.

"I met him in the Concourse," growled the ex-Soldier. "He bragged that the laserdiscs had read-only data on this year's futures across the boards in all sectors. He could have sold it for millions on Aegadh, allowing a potential trade rush on Kfolaell. I was the one who called the cops, Captain Gankinra. I apologize for defending my homeworld from info-smugglers if it cost you some Fangs."

"Oh no, Captain," countered Shaa. "Passengers pay before they step claws on this vessel. It's Trade and Commerce and we Vilani like it that way." She did not tell the mercenary that she had willingly forfeited the Fa5000 as a peaceful show of good faith on Kfolaell. Shaa wanted the Panas Gankinra to be remembered as law-abiding and fair trading as she passed back through this world-system.

"According to history," added the Soldier, "Oesar Gin Due used to be part of the Dzen Aeng Kho, our Society of Equals before it was claimed unopposed by Aegadh. I don't know what flag Aegadh flies. I will when I arrive there I suppose." That too was news to Shaa, another note to add to Qithka's starchart.
 
* * *
Lt. Hew Hollowton.jpg
Hew stumbled on two legs from the Bridge toward the Medical compartment, "Doc! My neck again."

The upright, ambling Ursa with a crick in his neck startled both the Vargr merchant and the mercenary. They had not seen the brown pelt, ursine tower of muscle and armament when they boarded. And now, Hew's rumbling and distressed voice must have mislead the two males into thinking Hew was some loose animal aboard the Safari Ship. They were on their feet, crouched low and adopting Vargr Infighting stances. Then Dr. Zhem stepped from Medical to help Hew pop his neck.

Thankfully, it was Qithka who intercepted the alerted Vargr and spoke in Gvegh to them as Zhem took hold of Hew's neck. One quick jerk after setting the metallic limbs and p-p-pop-pop-pop! Released from the Cym-Robot's limbs, Hew slumped to the deck in a heap of endorphins. "Thankths, doc, huhhh."

Qithka padded over to Hew and said, "'onor'ble Cap'n Voukuen ask'n if'n yew were mil'tary, 'ew. Tol' 'em yew were Marine, righ'?" Behind the teenager above Hew's prone body was one of the Middle Passengers, a well-built Gvegh male. The Ursa pushed his body up on his posterior to sit up and nod his head now that his crick was gone.

Qithka knew Hew was a Marine. To him, she was speaking in her accented Anglic to give the Vargr Captain a chance to see that the Ursa was not a ship's pet, that he could communicate with words. "Yeah, two terms. Mora Peacekeeping Force. Marines right." Hew attempted a Vargr smile though he knew his facials were more ursine than lupine.

Qithka translated Hew's answer into Gvegh which he did not speak. She turned back from the Captain's harsh growling and translated, "Cap'n Voukuen wantsta t' see yew display yer weap'n, Marine."

Through Qithka as a Steward and Liaison intermediary, Hew unholstered his Mora Peacekeeper Shotgun, checked its safety, popped the magazine of high-velocity scatter slugs and held up the Portable weapon. Captain Voukuen's eyes grew the size of gostrich eggs. "Th' Cap'n asks about th' weap'n."

Hew pointed a long index claw tip at the selector. The weapon had Off, Single, and Burst fire modes.

"Dakka-dakka," sounded out Hew as if he were rattling of a Burst Fire. Captain Voukuen nodded and wagged his tail. He knew Burst Fire sounded like that.

For the rest of the commute to the jump point, Hew and Voukuen let Zhem translate as Qithka took a watch on the Bridge and at the helm. The argument between Hew and Qithka over the delayed trip to stellar 100D was quickly forgotten as the Marine talked through Zhem to the Homeguard Soldier.

"Yeah, that's right," nodded Hew a few questions later. "Portable means most sophonts need powered and braced armor to tote and fire this long-range Shotgun." Zhem translated to the mercenary.

How far did it fire? Hew had to detail the ammunition to answer the next question. "Uh, the manual says it can fire up to 50 clicks because of these extra-long shells, but I've never hit anything with it beyond 500 meters on my best day."

Did the Ultimate Vheavy Assault Portable Shotgun (Ursa-Paws)-10 rate as a Heavy Weapon or Artillery? "Naw, the spray keeps the penetration low. Loud as a sonic boom though and will knock anything it hits on its tail."

With the Panas Gankinra already pointed at distant Oesar Gin Due, Hew was able to wax military with Capt. Voukuen until Qithka was given the word to push the Safari Ship out back.

* * *

At the end of 34 hours of delayed commuting, the Panas Gankinra crew shut down their Maneuver Drive and engaged the Jump Drive. The Jump Flash produced a Size 10 brilliance that faded over ten minutes and was recorded by telescopes in orbit above Kfolaell.
 
* * *

At the end of the Day of First Meal, Qithka lay in five-point, thick leathery, medical restraints in the Medical compartment Med Console. Vigilant, Dr. Zhem stood over her supine form and monitored her vitals. Upon waking here on the bed and buckled down, Qithka could do nothing else but review the Day she remembered. She took it step by step and put the chain of events together link by link.

Qithka had woken in her Cabin feeling refreshed and Optimal. Today was First Meal, the big dinner gathering in the Commons where Capt. Shaa could meet with the Passengers for social hour with a meal. She rose from her bunk and took her lilac unitard to the Common Fresher which was devoid of anyone that early in the ship-morning. Capt. Gankinra had just finished her watch and was sleeping her Human sleep in the Captain’s Cabin.

Qithka remembered showering and feeling great. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Everything felt so smooth this Day. A shower, tooth brushing, and pelt brushing made her feel worthy to look at even if her wagging and ringed tail reminded her this was her third go-round of lives.

Some psionic exercises in: Psi-Shield, Self-focused Psi-Shield, Psi-Vision to spot Zhem moving about in the Medical compartment, Psi-Hearing of the still-active Jump Drive that pushed the Panas Gankinra out back, and a general Psi-Perception on quick location of every biological sophont on the ship. Hew was on the Bridge, the Captain asleep, Zhem invisible to her Perception as a silicon-based sophont, sleeping Low Passengers and the Middle Passengers doing their activities. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Qithka recalled taking her Steward turn in the Galley, prepping the coffeemaker with HyperCaf Dragon Blend coffee, and heating up breakfast: bacon-wrapped breakfast steak for the Vargr on board, with toast and jam for the Human, a crustacean dressed in bacon for the Ursa, and juices to taste. It was going to be a great Day. Smell that breakfast spread!

On her second crew mug of HyperCaf, Qithka caught a second wind and was ready to do her itinerary. Dancer practice with the Ship’s Computer today featured more, loud, thumping, up-and-down pogoes to the beat while fanning her Cabin air with her metal folding fans. She was in the moment, in the groove. This was great!

With her came her coffee mug as Qithka finished her dance session to conduct a routine patrol of the cargo hold, for stowaways, loose cargo straps, and the like. She was on top it. The air was cool in the hold due to the refrigerated Quality Foodstuffs that Shaa had purchased as Rich commodities to possibly sell on Oesar Gin Due (conquered which bothered her for a minute). Meditative breaths brought the aroma of some kind of air freshener to Qithka’s nose. It was not unpleasant, just a little strong maybe. With a shrug, Qithka had left the cargo, satisfied in her Freightmaster duty. No stowaways or vermin trying to hijack the ship with cute-eyes.

Lunch, greeting the Middle Passengers, Qithka did the dishes like she could not be stopped. Chores flew by as she worked to straighten the Galley, Commons, her Cabin. Everything was running so smoothly!

With the merchant asleep and the citizen migrant cloistered in their Staterooms, Qithka fast-packed a snack tray with a hefty beer complete with an orchid bloom decoration arrangement. Then she took it across the ship to check on Captain Voukuen. Who could say no to a pretty Steward in a unitard, an evening snack and a brew? As soon as the door was answered, Qithka had barged in on the mercenary Soldier, wanting to present the tray of goodies to him as if he were some kind of High Passenger.

Surprise was not her word for Voukuen as Qithka had advanced on the older, (well not as old as the Dame) Vargr backpedaled from her forward advances. SNIFF! And he smelled just like the Dame remembered of Force Commander Kayleb Grouthk back on the Ares. No brother Gevaudan to stop her this time, eh?!

Male pelt, washed battle fatigues, Voukuen lacked Kayleb’s smoking habit which was a plus. Gunmetal oil, ammunition from yesterday, and many other scents Qithka had caught in trying to seduce Capt. Voukuen.

Voukuen did not have Kayleb’s sky-silver blue eyes, but he had that dreamy amber-hazel shade that Qithka somehow found attractive.

“Steward?”

Just back him up to his bunk.

“Miss!”

Qithka huffed in remembering that just then the caffeine high finally let go of Qithka, dropping her instantly from Optimal to Sleepy. No! Not right then! She had him on the ropes. He was trying to push back and all, but Qithka just knew every male Vargr could understand a female’s needs, right?

But Sleepy has a way of slipping in when an adolescent youngster wants to stay up past their bedtime. Qithka had fought to stay awake and have her way now with dashing Capt. Voukuen. But alas. The door to Voukuen’s Stateroom opened to the interrupting Hew Hollowton and Zhem in doctor mode.

“Qithka!” Hew called with an edge to his voice. What? Could they not tell Qithka wanted some alone time with handsome Voukuen?

“Get her offa me!”

Just as Zhem laid manipulators on her trying to disrobe the Captain, Qithka blacked out and found herself in the Medical compartment just now. Then the pounding migraine hit Qithka’s cranium like a skull-tap and blender rod doing aerobics with her brain. “Owww.”

“I’m sorry, Qithka,” answered Dr. Zhem now towering over her like a metal battlement ready to repulse her siege even if she was already belted to the table. “I can’t give you anything for the headache until I’m sure the Attractant will not synergize with any other medicine.”

But the kind Vargriform did Qithka a favor by massaging her scalp through the migraine. Qithka had missed First Meal spoiled as it was by her caffeine and aromatic-induced bender. She had been caught assaulting a Passenger. Guilt fell on Qithka like a collapsing arcology from Qithka01’s years.

"How-?" whimpered Qithka.

"You suffered an overdose of both very strong caffeine and Vargr pheromone Attractant already at concentrated, pre-filtering levels. Hollowton isolated the leaking tank and is venting the hold now."

"The coffee?" asked Qithka.

"Touted by its warning label, HyperCaf Dragon Blend holds itself the strongest caffeinated product on the market throughout the Subsector, Qithka. And you had more than two full ship-mugs, an overdose for Vargr of any known ethnicity."

The pain in her slam-dancing skull pulsed again when Qithka winced and said, "Thanks for saving me from a thing I would really regret in six months. I feel dumb."

"Now, don't do that Vargr Charisma descent thing, Qithka. This was not your fault. You may still apologize to Capt. Voukuen, but please don't take this out on your UPP."

Too late. Though Zhem had a point and Qithka had lost control of her passions, she slowly kept from self-aggrandizement. She swore off power drinks and caffeinated coffee then. Her conception of a Psion had been a sophont constantly in control of oneself.

Now, the teenage Relict Clone knew that Psions are no less vulnerable to loss of control over the sophont condition. Pups was not in Uthka's crystal tarot cards for Qithka, not after Qithka01's inner debate[2]. "Is Voukuen alright?" asked Qitha genuinely concerned for the mercenary.

"He recovered well, Qithka. You tried to seduce a homosexual male who claims he is not 'into white-pelts', but an apology would help."

Ancients, Runetha, and Gevaudan help Qithka02 Cannagrrh. She was drowning in guilt and embarrassment. It was four hours and two bedpans later when Dr. Zhem finally saw the blood toxicity levels drop so he could administer analgesics and a cleanser. The latter sent Qithka to the Common Fresher with the door locked behind her and Zhem warding off the crew.

[2 - In Ringtail, Qithka01 Cannagrrh debated whether her body was geneered by BeastMasters LIC, making her unsuitable and a threat to the Vargr genetic pool.]
 
* * *

While Capt. Gankinra waited for guilt-ridden Qithka to exit the Common Fresher, Hew took a look at the cargo manifest after he had vented the air of the cargo hold. The Ursa's steps thumped his way to the Passenger Cabins. When the merchant named Oung emerged to return his spoiled First Meal dinner tray to the Galley, Hew snatched up the weakling Vargr and absconded with the dangling male to the airlock just beyond the Ship's Locker. Just some words with the pervert, he promised himself.

"Listen up, you furry little worm," growled Hew Hollowton. "That gasket was already leaking. I could tell. Maybe you thought this a lady crew vessel and would encourage up a good time. If I had enough Fangs, I'd buy up your stock before jettisoning it to jumpspace..."

Then Hew realized Oung did not speak Anglic. "Panas", barked Hew to the Ship's AI, "translate what I just said to this punk."

"Compliance. Cell to translation." Then the overhead intercom relayed Hew's threatening words in a soft, female, Human voice making Hew hear what sounded like a mother scolding a cub. It would have to suffice. A bear claw gesture punctuated the translation. When he smelled Vargr urine, Hew dropped off the runt in the Shared Fresher on his way back to the Commons. For the remaining duration out back, 'Honorable' Oung hid in his Stateroom except to eat meals or visit the Fresher.

* * *

Qithka sat again on the fourth Day out back in the Med Console in Medical. With her was Dr. Zhem in Counsellor mode. With her clarity, Qithka could not deny what had happened, and she felt the need to unload her misconception about the elitism of Psions and psionics. Now that she knew that the disciplines did not make a Psion any better or stronger or more moral, the white-pelt had a cry alone but tended by the Counsellor. He reported that she had not suffered any strain but was under guilt stress. Talking through it was indicated.

"How Gevaudan kept his powers from inflating his ego," began Qithka02, "I might never know for sure."

When her Vargriform Counsellor did not interrupt, Qithka continued saying, "Maybe it's because he never considered himself a full Psion. He always asserted that he was a 'psionicist', never a Psion. He maybe knew that his cybernetics and his powers branded him a so-called 'abomination', metal-and-mind. Ancients, I miss him, my great uncle now."

"Your history said Senior Scout Gevaudan Cannagrrh was informally rated in Teleportation and synesthesia Psi-Smell often called clairsentience. Your secret rating, Qithka is much higher. Now you feel you may lose control of yourself as happened a few days past."

"In my Pattern dam's time, there was a Psion's Oath, a promise of trustworthiness. Here, now I have nothing of the sort. Not at yet."

Qithka's ears flattened and her tail drooped off the side of the pull-down bed. "It is only a matter of time after my next Stage before the others start wearing Shielding gear. Can I be trusted, they may ask themselves.”

Zhem stood a little taller, stepped to Qithka and took up the lavender poncho. The hulking Vargriform draped the woven material about the young Vargr form. Then when done, Qithka dressed in it, Zhem said, "This honorable cloth tells me, Psion Qithka that you are to be trusted. I trust you." The kind words from a Cym-Robot and Counsellor caused her to leak tears. "I know what this logic can do, what you say it 'feels' like, Qithka." Lowering his vision sensors level with the adolescent Vargr, he continued, "My predecessors were feared and distrusted too. So, let us make a pact. I will trust you with something of mine as you have trusted me with your very special and delicate history. To keep me from Deconditioning and Onwee, Qithka, may I trust you with this chassis' Code Word? It would assure me that this form can be stopped were I too to become out of logic."

Qithka knew that she would never be able to read or influence the silicon mind of a Psi-Null Cym. He could stop her if ever she lost control of herself like the Attractant had done to her. Nodding meekly, Qithka consented to learning Zhem's Code Word. This was something he admitted to being intimate as Cyms trading code in mating. With a spoken Code Word, she could command Zhem's chassis if not Zhem himself.

Zhem told her the Code Word. Then he made her test it by having her command him to unlock the door to Medical. She found the chassis obeyed her though Zhem still verbally marveled that his first direct command worked so sublimely.

"And you stop me if ever I go power-crazed, Zhem?" asked Qithka.

"I promise."
Pact.jpg
 
Thirty minutes into jump rumblings before breakout and Qithka was having trouble preparing the changeover from the Jump Drives to the Maneuver Drives. She spent minutes trying to clean off the holographic projection and input detector at the Engineering Operating Console. Over the ship intercom, Qithka heard Capt. Gankinra announce breakout.

Two Red main sequence stars had caught each other and mingled. Each had planets but only the brighter homestar held the single Gas Giant in the dual system. Shaa caught the bright blue methane Jovian on the Scopes and Hew griped that he could not get underway until Qithka had the Maneuver Drives online.

Skimming for fuel in Orbit 3 was to be followed by a commute to the Inner System mainworld in Hot Orbit 0. Another Twilight Zone world with a runaway water cycle that turned the dayside into a mud wrestling fest while the nightside was a frozen meat locker. The Green Band was a fight between icebergs breaking off the Water world ice shelves against the fogs, rains, sleets and blizzards raging. Qithka wondered what the draw to Oesar Gin (Due added later when it was conquered sometime during the Interregnum), when she finally switched Drives to let the Jump Drive cool down.

The mainworld answered Shaa’s greeting signal when the Panas Gankinra detected in-system Comms chatter. An introductory handshake and strings exchange later told the crew more about the mainworld as Shaa continued to map Oesar Gin Due.

Oesar Gin Due was space-worthy, though no starships had come this entire quarter. Aegadh had taken up the world-system as the Society of Equals gradually lost control of systems too difficult or not worth the trouble. But in doing so, the Dzen Aeng Kho had lost the remnant Naval Base Qithka remembered. The string exchange confirmed that the old frontline Base against the Edge was still there and still operational. However, only non-Interstellar spaceships guarded one-half of this dual Red star pair.

With her Portable Controller, Qithka looked at the generating map and UWP string. Aegadh was no longer part of the Thirz Empire. In fact, she could not tell what had happened to the Thirz line of monarchies. Though the Dame had held mild animosity for the Thirz for being a buffer polity between Gvurrdon Sector Gvegh Vargr and the Zhodani Consulate, she also knew that the Zhodani had manipulated the Thirz for their own ends though psychohistory and clio dynamics. The Dame could only prove her claim through lost ‘aryu’ data back during the Equality War. With its religious fervor in the Church Of The Chosen Ones, Aegadh was likely too fanatical even for the Thirz. Was that why Aegadh was now a non-aligned world?

Qithka recalled that the Dame had once written a comedy musical about the Church but had refused to submit it. It could have touched off a jihad or some kind of march or protest. Aegadh was a High-Population world just across the Edge in that time. It would have been bad to have religious war in the New Era, though the reaction from everyone else would have been hilarious. Yet, the Dame knew where to draw the line. The manuscript was never published.

But in remembering that Aegadh was once and could still be High-Population, Qithka chose then to modify her route home to include the Church-world, if it was such still here in 1902. High Population worlds meant an opportunity for her next Stage in psionics training, rating her Extra-Corporeal Manipulations. There was curiosity in the ECMs, but also fear that finding her powers and their strengths might earn Qithka a shunning by Hew and Shaa.

This made Qithka want all the more to set down on Oesar Gin Due and learn from the Controlling Government if Aegadh was still a billion strong and still an Amber Zone and Puzzle. Religion had held the world in line from Vargr mercurial currents. Was it still a shrine to Vargr supremacy as the “Chosen of the Ancients”?

“Any day now, Qithka,” griped Hew from the helm on the Bridge.

“Oh, sorry,” apologized Qithka. Feeding power from the Jump Drive to the Maneuver Drive, the Panas Gankinra was able to commute to the Gas Giant T ahead.

Once the Safari Ship was thrusting a cruising acceleration of three gees, Qithka went forward to the Bridge but kept an eye on the Engineering boards via her Portable Controller.

Skimming was bouncy though Hew took extra time in cautiously riding the updrafts of the H2 cloud deck with the screaming Scoops sucking up atmosphere. Qithka wedged her body a corner of the Bridge and called the milestone marks as the L-Hyd tanks filled after the Purifier did its magic on the elements gulped by the ship.

Because of Hew’s caution, skimming took just over two hours of rough riding before Qithka called 100% containment. Shaa Gankinra had stayed on Sensors to scrutinize the clouds for bogey contacts. Thankfully, only Comms chatter called out spaceships in the Inner System. Oesar Gin Due awaited the arrival of a starship once Shaa gave the world to lift from the Gas Giant and begin the commute from Orbit 3 to Orbit 2. It was an estimated 22 hours flight, time enough for Qithka to meet with Capt. Voukuen.

As it was her turn in the Galley, Qithka set aside her Portable Controller where she could see the Engineering gauges as she cooked. A gyros-style lasagna with three kinds of meat and sauces was her selection for this meal. As she cooked, crew and Passengers cycled through for their trays. Qithka stopped a wary Capt. Voukuen by slowing her assembly of his dinner.

The tawny male kept on the far side of the Galley from the adolescent when Qithka began her apology saying, “Honorable Voukuen, I was bad. I am sorry for my behavior before First Meal. Though Dr. Zhem told me that I was under two influences, I still should have kept myself from acting the way I did. I am sorry.”

Voukuen nodded. Charisma was settled. He said, “Somehow I knew that Freight was going to be trouble. It may still be trouble when it gets unloaded on Oesar Gin Due. I am glad our encounter got no further than it did. I’m not into females let alone those half my age.”

Qithka’s tail drooped as she finished Voukuen’s dinner tray. With the pass-through Galley island between them, she nodded too now that she knew herself forgiven. “I am not ready for pups at this age, and I would never have been that kind of forward. Please don’t let my actions reflect upon this ship. Capt. Gankinra is a Lady in the Republic of Regina and does not need a hormonal teenager for crew.”

“Say no more, Miss Qithka,” interrupted the mercenary holding up a stopping claw palm forward. “You did not mean to intoxicate yourself. At least neither of us were drinking to add fuel to the fire.”

As the Captain took his tray, Qithka bowed low and formal to let him retreat from the Galley to his Cabin. That had gone better than she expected. The Dame might never have apologized, (though there was that time her brother forced her to apologize to Kayleb Grouthk). Qithka01 would have apologized, especially after the hundreds that had given their lives because of her. Now, Qithka02 Cannagrrh had risked her Charisma before another Vargr and did not feel a change in her self-worth. Zhem was right in that this was not her fault. Zhem and Hew had rescued her personal Vargr Charisma.

Qithka took her tray last and removed herself from the Galley-Commons to her crew Cabin to eat. This jump was going to grate on her for a while. She did not know if she could perform any more fan dances after her behavior this transit. From her Cabin, Qithka watched the Engineering boards on the Portable as Hew again missed his mark twice in attaining Far Orbit, bouncing along the mainworld Orbit 0 until he caught the gravity well enough to begin final approach. Qithka let Shaa do the griping for the delays instead of her.
 
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