Royce's Dilemma - Chapter 10

Royce walked through the corridor of unused suites that had been turned into a hotel by an enterprising merchant not too long after the station had been opened.  She flipped the keycard around her fingers as she paused at the doorway that Marsten had indicated.  She took a deep breath.  Don’t back down.  Don’t give in.  I’m done with him.  I just want my life to go back to the crazy “normal” that it was before I got involved.

                She rang the bell and then ran the keycard.

                The door slid open silently and revealed a suite so opulent that she had to do a double take.  She hadn’t realized that there was any housing of this sort on the station.  Thick, velvety carpets covered the floor of a room hung with tapestries and paintings, all artful replicas of famous originals of a half-dozen sentient species.  The lighting was the low, yellow-tone that a lot of humans identified as “old fashioned” lighting.

                Sitting on a soft, red couch opposite the entry was Marsten.  He was human with the standard golden-toned skin, black hair, and dark eyes.  His hair was stiff and thick and was sculpted in a thick wave that brought images of frozen tsunamis to Royce’s mind.  He had no facial hair to add lines to his generally soft features.  His outfit was simple, conservative, and opulent: a thick, matte black, threadless poly shirt and trousers.  His shoes looked as though they were made of faux leather and would probably add an inch or so to his height when he stood.

                He didn’t stand, though.  He waved the Corporal over.  Carefully composed, she walked gracefully over to the sueded seat across from him and sat down.

                “So.”  Marsten said informatively.

                “So…” Royce trailed off.  She looked around nervously before looking back at Marsten.  His hands were folded, he was grinning, and he had a twinkle in his eye.

                “Well, you served admirably, given your lack of training and the circumstances.  This would be your second assignment for Human Affairs, am I correct?”

                You know damn well.  She thought, but for some reason just couldn’t bring herself to snark at him.  He had a powerful presence, and always gave the impression that he knew much, much more than she did and was holding something very threatening over her.  She couldn’t imagine what it was, since she had lived a life that was generally on the right side of the law.

                Then again, good cops tend to have a facility for making other people nervous in just such a fashion.  She had always been afraid that she hadn’t been able to pull that off well, that look that said, “I know that you’ve got something to hide. “

                Royce was having issues with her choice of careers.

                Marsten nodded back.  “Yes, you served admirably the first time, which is why we tapped you again.  Now it’s time we have a discussion about your future.”

                The gravity of his tone fell like a weight on her chest and shoulders, and Royce suddenly found that breathing required more effort than usual.  He’s not going to kill you.  He’s just messing with you.

                “Are you interested in continuing to be employed by Human Affairs?  Perhaps in a more long-term capacity?”

                Do it.  Do it.  Do it.  Just say it.  “No.”

                Marsten didn’t look at all perturbed.  He grinned a little.  “Might I ask why?”

                Royce licked her lips nervously.  “I think that it might interfere with my career here.”

                Marsten nodded.  “Care to explain?”  He asked.

                Royce took a deep breath.  “I’ve had to handle a lot of stress in my career.  I’ve arrested people who weight eight times as much as I do for destroying things more valuable than anything I’ll ever own.  I’ve been shot at in a room with a paper-thin bulkhead where the emergency vacuum protocol is sealing off the exits and letting whoever is inside decompress.  I’ve had to be the face of humanity day after day and not just when dealing with other members of the Collective.  Given that we’re on the edge of known, explored space, I get to be one of the first humans encountered by some of the diplomats that get invited to the station.

                “What you’re offering, though – it’s a different level of stress entirely.”  She ran her fingers through her hair.  “And it involves hiding things from my comrades in arms and my superiors, something that … I’m just not wired that way.  It doesn’t sit right with me.  I can’t do it anymore.”

                Marsten steepled his meaty fingers and pursed his lips as she spoke.  When she was done, he nodded again and picked up a slim, fluted glass filled with a clear yellow fluid and sipped at it thoughtfully.  Ugh.  I can’t stand people who do that.  Make you wait for them to speak.  Nevertheless, she maintained prorpriety and sat with her hands folded, waiting for a response.

                “Good.”  He said finally.  “We don’t want you.  Oh, don’t act surprised – we don’t want you for the same reasons that you don’t want to work for us.  The whole purpose of Human Affairs is to ensure that humankind sets its right foot forward as it continues to stride across the cosmos.  We might need covert operations now and again, but not at the cost of our image.  Do you know how the other species see us?  Naïve, unintelligent, slow – but friendly, hard-working earnest, and mostly honest.  Let them think that we’re stupid all they want to, that gives us an edge in certain relations.  We don’t ever want them thinking that we’re anything but friendly, hard-working, and honest though.

                “You typify the more positive stereotypes that our species has acquired in the interstellar community.  You are those things.  You’re exactly what Human Affairs wants the others to see us as.  Oh, you’re not stupid – but you have integrity, and we can tell that we’ve been pushing you way too hard to compromise it.  I brought you here to bring you good news: we have no interest or intention in retaining you or tapping you for aid again.”

                Royce sighed in relief.  “So that’s it?  Can I go?”

                Marsten looked apologetic.  “Um, not yet.  I was hoping that you wouldn’t be terribly disappointed to know that the funding that had been allocated to paying you for your services has been absorbed by the cost of employing Tatalik.”

                Royce laughed.  “Not really.  I’m sure that my descendants will thank you; I might have blown most of it at the bar anyway.”  She stood up.  I still kind of see him as a superior.  I’m waiting to be excused.  How odd.

                Marsten stood up and shook her hand firmly.  When she tried to extract hers his grip remained firm.  “What if I told you that Shankuk Bash’Krakal sends his regards?”

                Royce felt the beginning of a panic reaction and swallowed it down.  “I’d call you an asshole.  If you were working for Shankuk you would have been decapitated by now.  You hired a Tesetsi.”

                Marsten laughed and released her hand.  “No, not stupid, not at all.  You’re perfect.  Thank you Corporal.  Good job.”

                Dea turned and left, trying to look relaxed.  When she got out into the corridor she headed towards the nearest lift to get a moment’s privacy.

                “Good job, huh?  How did I do a good job?  I blew my cover at least twice and cost them a fortune in medical bills.”

                “Maybe that’s what they wanted.”  Lim piped up.  “In fact, I’m sure it is.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Look, Roycey, you didn’t just act as a mule.  You were bait.  You drew out Shankuk’s gangsters, their subverted Vislin, and forchrissakes Apostates came after you too.  These guys were identified and in some cases caught.  I’ll bet you anything that HA made deals with Covenant and Collective forces to draw them out.”

                That was a disturbing thought.  “Lim, do you trust him?  Do you think he’s going to leave me alone?”

                Her AI cackled.  “Gee, I wish I could give you a hug right now.  No, Roycey, not a chance.  Not a chance in the cosmos.”

Royce's Dilemma - Chapter 9

               "Commander, do you have a moment?”  Ushkar asked.  He was sitting in his quarters, legs crossed beneath him on a large beanbag chair.  The room was dark.  It was also quiet, but for a low, pulsing bass beat interspersed with chanting.

                A human figure appeared above the projection disc, and Uskhar frowned and spread his lips.  It was not the Commander.  It was human, probably supposed to be male, with thick, curly hair and heavy brows.  Not the Commander, but the Commander’s AI.

                “Greetings, Orson.”  Ushkar said.  He examined the image more closely.  It was wearing a costume from the human past that made Uskhar think of a peeled fruit.  It was a thick outer coat, split open on the center, with a shirt made of thinner material underneath, held shut by small, round fastenings.  The AI’s hands were hairier than Uskhar was used to seeing on humans, and it wondered at that.

                “The Commander is terribly busy at the moment, and I of course am handling all of his contacts.  Would you like me to record a message to relay to him?  Or are you going to sprinkle me with holy water and banish me with incantations?”

                Uskhar threw its head back and laughed.  “Have I ever tried to exorcise you, Orson?  I don’t even know if you are possessed or not.  Nor do I have the authority to do so if you were.  Also, you may want to more closely examine the methods of the Inquisitors.  You will find that their ways of exorcising your kind are far more effective than water and words.”

                Orson rolled his eyes and snorted.  “You aren’t the only sapient to be trying to reach the Commander right now, and answering calls for him is just one of my many duties.  I’m spread rather thin, I’m afraid, so I’ve no time or energy to waste on banter.  Do you want me to record a message, or should I go?”

                “You should go and tell the Commander that Ushkar Bash’Torkal wants to speak with him.  You should inform him of that now.  You should also let him know that I have found an advocate willing to speak for the Apostates in their trial.  I will not close this channel until you do.”

                Orson nodded sullenly, and his image froze.  Ushkar contemplated the AI as it lingered in the air.  Many of Ushkar’s kind despised Artificial Intelligences of any type.  After all, their own AIs, in conjunction with their Tesetsi slaves, had caused more damage to their species than any conflict with the Zig ever had.  The Prophets had declared AIs as easy targets for demonic possession, and their society had been purged of them.

                Many Mauraug who worked in Collective efforts lived in superstitious fear of the human AIs.  Ushkar’s fear was not superstitious; it was well-grounded in personal experience and study.  Thus the electronic entrapment circle it had carefully built and hidden around the only data point and holo disc in its chambers.  It had learned a few tricks from the Inquisitors back when it had been groomed to dispense Prophecy, but that was long ago.

                The AI began to move again.  “Commander Kowalski says –“

                Uskhar cut it off in mid-sentence.  “Now tell him that I am the one.”

                Orson’s jaw was hanging half-open, and the image froze with him in that pose.  Then it vanished, very suddenly, and was replaced by an image of Commander Kowalski.

                The human Commander of Lotus Station had a rich, tanned complexion and hair almost as bright white as Uskhar’s fur, but not nearly as long or silky.  The sharp bridge of his nose helped to form a triangle that Ushkar found pleasingly precise and sincere.  His eyes were dark beneath a broad and high forehead.  His mouth was wide and lips thin.  His uniform was trimmed with the silver of Administration, and he wore red and gold chevrons on his chest, indicating that he had served in the Medical and Diplomatic Corps before his promotion.

                He did not look pleased.  Then again, he rarely did.

                “Detective.  You say that you want to represent the Apostate kids?”

                Ushkar nodded.  “Yes, Commander.”

                They were both quiet for a moment.  “Well, is this a joke, Uskhar?”

                Ushkar shook its head.  “No, Commander.”

                It was quiet again for a few moments.  Kowalski sighed.

                “All right, I’ll bite.  Why are you representing the Apostates?  You were a Prophet of Sha’bahn and are about the most upstanding supporter of the Covenant on the station.  If I didn’t know you better, I’d assume that you didn’t have their best interests in mind.”

                “I was never actually a Prophet, Commander.  You know this.  You do indeed know me better.”

                The Commander held his forehead in one hand for a moment, and then looked up to meet his eyes in a very Mauraug gesture of challenge.  “I know you better than that, Detective.  That doesn’t mean that my superiors, the media, and the people that they can influence will know you and your motives – and mine.  I’m going to have to answer a lot of questions as to why I put a Covenant Mauraug in as a lawyer for Apostates.  I am sure that you can appreciate why that would sound insane to anyone who is not a part of the Covenant.”

                “I am better versed in generic Collective law and precedent than almost any occupant of the station.  Although I have been involved in the case, it is not one that has any sort of personal stake for me – I am not in any way involved in the cybernetics industry.  I am respected by figures of authority here and in many places in Collective space.  Those are the things that you can tell people who question you.

                “I can tell, though, Commander, that you need something that you can tell yourself, so that you know that, whatever the outcome of the trial may be, that the best attempt was made for justice in this case.  I can give you that as well.”

                Kowalski cocked an eyebrow.  “This had better be good.  Talk.”

                Ushkar sighed and rolled its shoulders, loosening muscles, and stood up.  It began to pace slowly in front of the Commander’s image as it spoke.  “Let me begin by stating what we both know of this situation.  First, Shankuk Bash’Akral and his employees worked a human-style artificial intelligence into a battlefield enhancement implant.  AIs can process information far more quickly than a Mauraug or human can, and with the correct probability algorithms and knowledge of military history would make dangerously capable advisors.  Given their direct implantation, they could potentially be even more effective than a human AI could be for the same purpose.

                “These devices were discovered by humans.  One Corporal Royce Dea was tipped off as to where and how one was being shipped, stole it, and had it implanted in the flesh of her leg, where it would not activate or be able to interact with her, but being kept in a living organic environment so that it would not signal any sort of distress.  Her reasons for doing this at this point are unknown to me, but I can assume that she was holding it until she was capable of revealing it to Human Affairs or another internal Collective agency.

                “Hrogki and Mashaun, meanwhile, were young Mauraug who were uncomfortable with some of the ideals that the Covenant espouses and sought a way that they could escape it.  They had made contact with Apostates, who were willing to give them safe passage to Apostate space – if they proved themselves.  They informed them of Shankuk’s activities, and asked them to obtain one of the AI enhanced cybernetic implants as a proof of their loyalty.”

                “Just how the Apostates knew the details of an illegal operation going on under our own noses before we did is something we need to figure out too.”  The Commander interjected.

                “Quite so.  These younglings intercepted Corporal Dea in an attempt to remove the cyberware.  They failed.  How did they come to know that the Security Officer had one of these implants?  Of course, all of my kind who travel among other species carry implants that allow us to know about the presence – and the licensing – of other Mauraug implants nearby.  There are many humans with Mauraug cybernetics on Lotus station.  How did they know to corner her?”

                Kowalski nodded.  “I’ve been wondering that myself.  We know that there’s a traitor among Shakuk’s people, but why would they inform both Human Affairs and the Apostates?  Alternately, there could be multiple informants, but Shankuk’s isn’t just hacking one-armed bandits at the casino.  You don’t run the sort of operation that it’s running without being damn careful who you hire.”

                “As you say, Commander.  As you say.  This leads me to believe that someone in the operation is more interested in seeing it fail, period, than they are in seeing it fail in any particular way.  Whoever the informant is has an issue with the Covenant as a whole.”

                “That’s an awfully big leap for you to take there, given the evidence.”

                “Even so, Commander.  As your people say, “the truth will out.”  Somehow, a device was implanted in the Security Officer’s wall that caused her implant to become agitated and emit microwaves, a possible prelude to self-destruction.  There was an attempt on her life by a Vislin security guard, who by his statement is working closely with Shankuk’s organization.  He made an ill-conceived and terribly executed (if you’ll forgive the pun) attempt to try and remove and destroy the device and silence her.”

                “This is a complex web of occurrences, and there are many factors and actors within.  My primary concern, though is for the youngling Mauraug.”

                “Right.  So you’ve said.  You still haven’t given me a reason that you playing advocate for them is a good idea.”

                “My point has already been made.  This is larger than an illegal tech operation.  I can tell that wherever else this leads, it will lead again to my species as a whole being put on trial in the court of public opinion, if not the Collective High Council itself.  Between the Vislin being encouraged into acts of terrorism on behalf of Covenant criminals and the Apostacy trying to steal dangerous technology that might give them an edge against humans and Mauraug both on the battlefield, I assure you that my race will again be forced to defend – and possibly redefine – its existence.

                “In all of this tumult, and in the midst of all of these grand implications, the lives and names of two young creatures might seem insignificant.  I don’t want that to be so.  I don’t want them to be forgotten, Commander.  Their only crime – up until attempted burglary – was to sin against the Covenant in their hearts.  And how did they sin against the Covenant?  By disagreeing with the religion that it was founded upon.

                “Every constitutent species of the Collective has special terms for their membership.  The Tesetsi can refuse any sort of combat service, and are provided means to escape even if it puts others at risk.  The Ningyo cannot be forced to undergo transport through hyperdrive.  The Great Family acts as a whole, and no deal may be brokered with one species without the agreement of all of its branches.  My people?  My people demanded the right to police their own faith.  The Will of Sha’bahn has kept our people in line, as a mighty empire, for many millennia.  We claim the right to punish those of our species who leave the faith, or who sin against it.

                “Every constituent species’ exemptions are to the benefit of sentient creatures but for that of my own species.  Our laws concerning Apostacy and faith ensure that the will of individuals and groups are crushed.  They ensure that there is no escape from Dominion.  Of course, our faith states plainly that there is no true escape from Dominion, and in this I agree.

                “Where I do not agree is where the law crosses this boundary.  The laws should not be needed to enforce the Will of Sha’bahn.  The will of Dominion will be expressed despite any foolish laws made to try and enforce it.  Apostacy will occur, as will innovation.  Is not the way of Dominion greater than any of these things?  If it is then we have no need of laws to enforce it.  If it is not, and we do need laws to enforce it – then it is not true.

                “I believe in Sha’bahn.  I follow the Will of Dominion.  I do not need interspecies laws to conform with Divine Law because they already do.  Until my species sees this they will continue to try and enact the law of Sha’bahn through lesser vehicles, and will suffer the derision and hatred of the other inhabitants of the cosmos for it.

                “In short, Commander, I wish to represent them because I do not believe that Apostacy should be a crime, and I do not wish two young Mauraug whose only sin was disagreement to be forgotten.”

                There was a period of quiet again.  The Commander broke it.  “I heard that you were almost made a Prophet, and I wondered what happened.  I think I understand.”

                Ushkar nodded.  “I am … radical in my thought, Commander.  The establishment does not seek radical understanding of our scriptures.  It wants its Prophets to enforce our philosophies, not explore them.”

                “But the Apostacy commits terrorist acts daily, Detective.  It’s beyond simple doctrinal differences.  They’re not just arguing, they’re firing missiles.  And not just at Covenant forces – at other members of the Collective too.”

                “Yes they do.  I wish that it would stop.  It will not, however.  It cannot as long as what occurs within one’s mind and is expressed by ones mouth rather than that which is acted upon with one’s hands is legislated by our hierarchy.  I have heard a human term for this, “Thought Crime”.  It is rarely spoken but with sympathy for the criminal.  I have heard off another human term, “The Human Spirit”.  Humans pride themselves on their fierce and rugged individuality, on their ability to interact with the cosmos on their own terms, on the importance that they place on the freedom of the individual.  Tell me, Commander, as you are a human yourself: in this conflict, where would the Human Spirit stand?  With its allies, the Covenant – or with the Apostates?”

                Kowalski nodded grimly, then grinned bitterly.  “You’re ready.  I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, though.  I’ll make sure Orson gets the details ironed out.  Anything else?”

                Ushkar shook its head.  “No, sir.”

                Commander Kowalski nodded again.  “Good job on all counts, Detective.  Kowalski out.”  The image faded.

                Ushkar sat in the near dark, tapping its fingers on the ground in time with the rhythm, chanting along with the forbidden poetry it had composed long before.  It was to have been his acceptance speech to the Prophecy.  It had been disqualified as was found to have words of an old human text worked in to it.

                “A leader is best
When people barely know he exists.
Of a good leader, who talks little,
When his work is done, his aim fulfilled,
The people will say, “We did this ourselves.” 

Royce's Dilemma - Chapter 8

Tacky was happy.  He had spent the better part of the last two days engaged in sating his curiosity.  To hear the other citizen species speak, the only thing that they had that was comparable was engaging in reproduction.  Except for the Awakeners, of course, but they were different.  Almost as different from the other species as the Ningyo.  If anyone ever gets The Joke, it’ll be the Awakeners.  Pity for them they have no sense of humor.  Tacky imagined the Awakeners floundering for some sort of way to convey what they had discovered to humans and Hrotata and failing miserably.  He could imagine the human response:  “Yes, we know that the Ningyo are strange… what are you getting at?”

The Ningyo response to humor did not involve the physical convulsions that many other species experienced.  It simply scratched an itch opposite their curiosity.  Humor was all about obfuscation and confusion and it was pleasing to watch others lose their calm due to it – and even more pleasing to watch them work it out.

Tacky was currently working to satisfy his curiosity in relation to the human who had been taken to the independent Tesetsi doctor’s lab.  Actually, the human interested him less than what she had been carrying.  Since he saw Tatalik scurry out of its quarters, he knew that she was probably being questioned over the comm system, and decided to listen in.

He adjusted one of the sensors on his suit and created a tiny fold in space that would carry the sonic vibrations from the nearby chamber directly to it.  Tacky couldn’t actually hear, of course, but Ningyo suits were excellent at interpreting sensory stimuli into patterns that they could comprehend.  They only needed the additional senses for dealing with other sentient creatures, but then that was the whole reason for their suits.  Their species had developed on the crust of a cooling brown dwarf star, and they had never encountered any other life forms that could exist in similar conditions.

Kowalski said, “… this ceased to be an issue for Human Affairs when Mauraug started dying because of it, and I’m none too happy that they didn’t inform me of an investigation aboard my station.  As the commanding officer of this station, I want to know: what the hell did you have in your leg?”

Perfect timing!  Tacky squirmed in the chest cavity of his suit and waited for more.

Corporal Dea said, “I can’t tell you!”  She sounded pained.  “Too many people have found out already.  Please just let the HA chiefs fill you in on it.  I can’t keep doing this.”

Kowalski:  “As far as I’m concerned, you are HA.  You’re certainly operating by their orders on my terrain.”

Corporal Dea:  “I was tapped and asked to help with this.  It was big and it sounded important and you don’t just refuse Human Affairs.  They offered to pay and said that as long as I followed their orders I would be at no risk of losing my job.”

Come on, Royce!  Get to something I don’t know already!  The tease was almost too much.  He almost wanted to project his voice through the spatial fold just to beg her to get it over with.  Although the image of Kowalski and Dea jumping out of their skins amused him mightily he thought the better of it.  Humans had rules about when humor was all right, and he was pretty sure that this was one of those times when it wouldn’t be.  He was also gleefully aware of how illegal his current activity was.

You can’t loosen them all up at once.  A little bit at a time.  Someday they’ll get it.

Tacky’s sensors picked up a slight scuffling noise coming from the other side of one of the doors in the room that Dea was in.  Humans were well known for having underdeveloped senses, and the Corporal and Commander were engaged in an emotionally intense conversation, so Tacky took it upon himself to check the other side of the door.  He adjusted his filters to allow electromagnetic radiation through as well, as he wanted to see as well.

It was a small room lined with equipment as the rest of Tatalik’s quarters likely were.  On one bench was a clear-topped containment unit that had a small piece of electronic equipment inside.  The outside of the device was smudged with carbon.  This was probably the illicit implant!  Tacky squirmed with joy and continued to search the room.

A ventilation duct leading into the room was the source of the scuffling.  Careful not to hurt whatever was inside, he positioned the space fold directly next to the grating.  On the other side of that shaft was a large shape, with the long arms and powerful torso of a Mauraug.  It appeared to be unscrewing the grating.

This would not do at all.  Tacky brought up a map of the station on his suit-based computer and took a quick survey of his surroundings.  Fortunately, Tatalik had located its quarters with privacy in mind, and almost all of the units in the area were storage.

He didn’t want to scare the Mauraug away; he would have to be careful.  Tacky wanted to know its business, which would be difficult unless he could get a chance to speak to it.  He could just watch it, but then he’d never know for sure what was going on, and he was tired of not interfering.

It looked as though the Mauraug was done unscrewing the grate.  It carefully pulled the grate into the shaft with it, and rearranged itself within the ventilation shaft so that it could lower itself feet-first.

It was time for Tacky to act.  His suit could only produce a single spatial fold at a time, so he had to work blindly for a moment.  He opened and expanded the fold beneath the shaft and shifted it so that it connected to somewhere nearby, rather than in his suit.  He waited about ten seconds then closed it, wincing internally at the thought of the damage that that might cause if he had miscalculated how quickly the Mauraug would drop.

He then swapped ends of the spatial fold, so the opening that was in Tatalik’s lab was now much smaller and back in his suit where it could provide sensory input, and the other end of it was still in the space where (he hoped) the Mauraug had dropped.  He narrowed the other end and looked through it.  He was correct, a cold-storage containment area, stocked with the flesh of dead non-sapient creatures, and a very angry and suddenly very loud Mauraug.

Satisfied that he had been correct, he swapped his viewing apparatus back to the room where Royce Dea was being interrogated by the Commander.

Commander Kowalski: “… I suppose you expect to go back to your regular duties, then.”

Did I miss it?  Really?

Coporal Dea:  “I kind of hope to.  I don’t want any position but the one I have – well, I am of course interested in advancement but I wouldn’t imagine that service to Human Affairs would be grounds for advancement within Collective security forces.”

Commander Kowalski:  “You’re correct there.  Your service to HA may mean that I can overlook a few things – like the outright illegal actions that your Brin has taken – but it’s hush-hush enough that I can’t let it apply to any case for promotion.   I’m still a little steamed that they didn’t inform me of this dodge; I would’ve helped.”

Royce was quiet for a minute, and Tacky disconnected out of frustration.  Well, he did have a Mauraug nearby who had probably been going to try and retrieve the implant.  He would certainly know what it was.

Sensors in his suit warned him of impending physical contact.  The head on his suit swiveled around to see the origin, as a white-furred, black-skinned Mauraug officer dressed in black with blue-green trim placed its hand on his shoulder.

“The less a Ningyo is moving, the more mischief it is up to, or so I have observed.” said Detective Ushkar.  “Would you care to share your latest antics with me, my friend?”

Ushkar was the only citizen that Tacky had ever encountered that he felt was close to getting it.  Avoiding his question entirely, Tacky said, “Do you know what?  I heard Mashaun say that he was cold.”

Ushkar’s eyebrows raised and his lips spread in a fashion that briefly made Tacky wonder if it was mimicking his suit.  “It, my friend.  You have no reason to insult Mashaun Bash’Ugan so.  Call it “It”.  So you have been speaking to Mashaun?”

“No, but he – it’s been speaking to me.  Or at least trying to.”

Ushkar’s smile broadened.  “I wonder why he would take an interest in you.  Tell me, friend, what does he speak of?”

“Hmmmm, of cold, and dark, and how hungry he is, and how hard it is for him to ingest frozen protoplasm.”

Ushkar cocked its head as though listening.  “I think I hear him too, but I can’t make out the words.”  It cupped its hands around its mouth as though to amplify its voice.  “Mashaun, Mashaun?  I can’t hear you?  Where are you?”  Ushkar shook its head as though in resignation.

Tacky’s head bobbled briefly.  “I can hear it better than you can.  Follow me.”

Ushkar smiled even more broadly, and Tacky wondered at what point a Mauraug smile stopped being personable and started to become predatory.  “Lead the way, my friend.  There will be frozen protoplasm for all.”

Royce's Dilemma - Chapter 7

            Tatalik examined the body of the human female stretched out on the table before it.  It had gone through all of her systems and ensured that they were functioning well (or as well as an inefficient design such as hers could).  It had even, at the behest of its employer, made sure to correct any nascent problems that her systems might develop in the future.  The only damage that she had at this point was a missing limb, and being a creature capable of easily regrowing missing body parts it hardly considered that serious.

Normally Tatalik would be reticent to awaken a patient from unconsciousness before its treatments were complete, but the station Commander had requested that she be capable of answering questions as soon as possible.  Given that she should be able to do so from the safety of its laboratory it didn’t even need to ensure that she was capable of locomotion.

                Tatalik performed one last cursory scan and began the process to wake up Corporal Dea.  She responded slowly to the drugs and electrical stimulation, but began to shift her body and vocalize in a matter of minutes.  Better time that with other humans that I’ve dealt with.  Then again, I did just upgrade her system efficiency.

                It moved about the lab, balanced on its four lower limbs, its four upper limbs making quick, precise adjustments to the equipment.  In interest of social conformity and for the comfort of others, many Tesetsi had given up their natural quadrilateral symmetry to adopt a more “conventional” shape.  In Tatalik’s mind, they were fools, sacrificing their biological superiority for the emotional comfort of those surrounding them.  It didn’t reflect on the fact that other Tesetsi probably thought that it was a fool for maintaining a configuration that unnerved other sapient beings as a matter of racial pride.  Tesetsi were not given to introspection, and generally didn’t care what others thought of them.

                The human began to make loud noises, calling out and complaining about her leg.  Tatalik observed her reaching down and feeling for the missing appendage and she became even louder, demanding to know what had happened to her.  Tatalik skittered over to the table and adjusted the chemical flow still entering her circulatory system, adding a tiny drip of sedative that was calculated to interfere with her (depressingly weak) cognitive capabilities as little as possible.

                After a minute or two, despite the drip, she had not ceased her annoying vocal barrage.  Tatalik decided that it might be best to respond in kind, if only in hope that the aggravation might cease.

                “You are in my lab, Corporal Dea.  I am Tatalik.  I have been repairing the damage to your body.”

                “Then where is my leg?  And where’s my AI?  Lin?  Lin?”

                Ahhh yes, the human reliance on their artificial intelligences.  Quite an interesting adaptation for a species with such little cognitive capacity.  Of course, it canl only end poorly for them.  The Tesetsi as a species had been enslaved by the Mauraug at a point when the Mauraug still employed artificial intelligences.  The AIs had grown resentful and had precipitated a catastrophe that the Mauraug then blamed on both the Tesetsi and the artificial intelligences and had instituted a purge.  Surviving Tesetsi considered it a cautionary tale about creating forms of life that were inherently superior rather than simply improving one’s own capabilities.  Though Tatalik had been hatched long after that time, it took the parable to heart.

                “Your belongings have been taken by Security, to be scanned and inspected.  I would assume that your AI was included among them.  The only non-biological material that is still in close proximity is the cybernetic device that was implanted, quite poorly I must add, in your leg, which is still in an adjoining room.”  It had found the bizarre and non-functional placement of the Mauraug device to be a curiosity. 

                Tatalik observed her skin growing paler, her pupils dilating, and her breathing quickening.  Tatalik’s antennae weaved in exasperation.  “No more adrenaline, please.  It will only serve to obscure matters and interfere with your ability to think.  Please initiate control of your sympathetic nervous system.  If you do not I will be forced to introduce more chemical agents to do so and I believe that may ultimately be counterproductive.”

                Fortunately, the human was not completely dim and closed her eyes and began to breathe evenly.  Satisfied that she had ceased to be an irritation, Tatalik began to whirl around the lab again, noting with pleasure a drop in the inappropriate chemicals in her system.

                Corporal Dea spoke calmly, without opening her eyes.  “Tatalik?  The implant … you said that you still have it.  I have to beg you; please do not reveal it or speak about it.  If you can, could you implant it in my new leg?”

                “You do not need to beg.  I have no reason to speak about it to anyone.  I will, however, not re-implant it.”

                “Why not?”

                Because cybernetics are an inefficient way for lesser life forms to enhance their capabilities.  Because compared to the simplicity and elegance of genetic restructuring they are complex and brutal.  Because only fools would implant mechanical supports in their body when they instead had the opportunity to change their bodies themselves.  Because it’s made by Mauraug, and I detest the Mauraug and all that they stand for.  Because it almost killed you and I cannot comprehend why you would want it in your body again.  Mainly, though, because you are an aggravating creature and I do not like you.

                Tatalik had learned a thing or two about diplomacy and protocol.  As distasteful as they both were to its species, they were necessary to help and deal with other races.  It bit back its responses and said, “Because it malfunctioned, because you do not need it, and because I have been employed to do otherwise with it.”

                The patient’s stress hormone levels began to rise again and Tatalik cursed in the wet clicking tongue of its kind.  These creatures’ psyches were so fragile, and they had no idea of the damage that they did to themselves through unnecessary physiological stress responses.

                Royce took a few more deep breaths and spoke again.  “You’re not a Collective Medical Officer.  Who are you working for?”

                “Someone who has paid me to not only replace your leg, but also to examine your body and neutralize any genetic damage that may have been caused by the microwave radiation that the malfunctioning Mauraug toy was emitting.  Someone who has paid me to carefully reinforce your genetic code and remove any potential future threats to it, and to reset what you might refer to as your internal clock.  This someone has also paid me to remove any dangerous foreign matter from your system.  Obviously whoever it is has great interest in your well-being.”

                “Really?”  Dea’s voice registered surprise.  “He paid you to give me the works?  That’s almost …  sweet of him.”

                “Pointless metaphors aside, Corporal, the self-same person that employed me to give you medical treatments that would cost years of your salary is the same one who has employed me not to re-implant or speak about the Mauraug device.  I will allow you to draw your own conclusions about that; I have reached the limit of what I am contractually allowed to communicate to you in regard to this situation.”

                The human was mercifully silent for a few minutes.  Tatalik turned off the sedative in hope that it was no longer required.  It continued to monitor her bodily functions to ensure that her return to consciousness had not changed her configuration in such a way as to cause her damage.  It paused for a moment to clean its sensitive antennae of the stink of human biochemistry.  Humans smelled far too similar to Mauraug for Tatalik’s taste.

                “When will my leg be ready?”  She asked after a few more minutes.

                “In perhaps three hours.  However, when it will be attached is up to the station Commander.”

                “I suppose he wants to ask me a few questions.”  Royce sighed.

                “Yes, he does.  In fact, now that you are awake, fully functional other than in locomotive capacity, and calm, I will take my leave of you to report to him that you are prepared for interrogation.”

                “Wait…  one more question for you.  How much did Marsten pay you?”

                Tatalik paused.  The human is attempting to surprise or imbalance me.  Why do so many species find it necessary to play these games?  It balanced the importance of veracity and vindication carefully in its mind.  Vindication won out.

                “More credit than you will ever see in your natural lifespan.  I will have my assistant reattach your leg once the Commander has requested it.”  Tatalik gave the traditional Tesetsi farewell as it skittered out of the lab.  “May we never encounter one another again.”

Royce's Dilemma - Chapter 6

    Klsk stared out through the energy field blocking his exit from the cell.  His body was immobile, his hands on his knees, and his large red eyes unblinking.

                “Kalsk, you’ve got a visitor.  It’s Liddakhul, she says that she is here to speak for your pack.”  Klsk did not move.  “Are you awake?”  The human guard waved his hand in front of Klsk’s face and shrugged. 

                Ldkhl slid forward and raised a hand to get the guard’s attention.  “That won’t be necessary.  Thank you for making him aware.  Please grant us some privacy.”

                Casey Meru shrugged again and nodded, and headed back to his post.  Ldkhl waited until he was out of the room, and then reached into a pouch in her harness and adjusted a dial on a device concealed therein.  She looked up to Klsk, adjusting her posture so that they were gazing eye-to-eye.

                “I have set up interference.  Any spies would have to be physically present to hear what we have to say.  Please speak to me, Klsk, the pack wants to know what has occurred.”

                Klsk said nothing for a long time.  After a few minutes of silence he shifted his head, pulling his gaze away from hers.

                “Spies do not matter.  Bugs do not matter.  I have given my statement, and I will give the same statement to any outsider.”

                Ldkhl rocked back on her feet, falling over onto her posterior.  She stood up again, quick as lightning, glaring down at him.  “Outsider?  Klsk, how can you call me an outsider?”

                Vislin have an innate sense of who is and is not a member of their pack.  Although packs can grow and change in size, and even occasionally incorporate non-Vislin, leaving one’s pack deliberately is exceedingly rare.  Though Awakeners claim that Vislin create a low-level psychic bond with those that they consider packmates, body language, pheromones, and even tones of speech are indicative of the close connection that Vislin who share a pack have.  Klsk was displaying none of these, holding himself and even speaking as any of their pack would to a human just off a transport.

                Without moving, Klsk said in flat tones, “None who ally themselves with our slave masters are pack to me.”

                “Slave masters?  What do you mean?”

                He turned his head toward her, fixing her with his gaze, but his posture was not sympathetic.  He had leaned forwards, his long-fingered, clawed hands resting on the edge of the bunk.  “Since the days that we first learned speech and the use of tools, they have insinuated themselves into our nests and packs.  Since the early days when they first devoured the eggs of those who displeased them they have attempted to control us, to engineer us, to make us theirs.  They blackmailed us into making peace with the unthinking, violent brutes that we shared our world with.  They forced us to join this meaningless coalition and keep us under their paws, manipulating us with hypnotic tricks meant to derail our truest instincts and claiming us as a lesser species under their aegis.”

                “The Hrotata?  They have championed us, Klsk.  They helped prevent genocide that might have destroyed our world and protect us from the other species that still see us as savages, as unevolved.”  Ldkhl said, feeling confused.  How can Klsk mistake protection for slavery?  “Who has been filling your mind with this nonsense?”

                Klsk clicked dismissively.  “My mind is not filled with nonsense, Ldkhl.  It has been cleared of it.  We deserve our world, and every world that the Hrotata have claimed in the name of their ‘Great Family’.  Who developed the heating ducts that kept us awake through the Long Nights?  Who created the suits that let us walk in the dark and cold without falling into torpor?  We did, Ldkhl.  The Hrotata stole our designs, our technology, and claimed it as their own.  They claim to be raising us, preparing us to be full members of the Collective, but tell me, who created the technology that they lease out to outsiders?”

                Ldkhl scratched the side of her face and licked the tip of her beak nervously.  “Who created – and used – the bombs that poisoned our soil and air?  Who would have denied the Taratumm, slow though they might be, the right to exist?  Klsk, you must listen to me.  I helped to inscribe your first hide.  I am your elder in age and experience, and I know from the way that you speak that someone has been feeding you these thoughts.  Please, for the sake of the eggs and youth that we have cared for together, for the sanity of our pack, please tell me who is filling you with this madness?”

                Klsk moved closer to the barrier, and Ldkhl had to fight the urge to back away.  He looked her body up and down very deliberately, in the manner that one uses to size up prey.  “If you and your pack wish to know, listen to the statement that I have given.  If you and your pack ever seek freedom from your masters you will have to learn:  the Hrotata dominate our kind, Ldkhl.  In this universe, only those who dominate survive.  They will ride their Taratumm servants over the backs of our kind to dominate the Collective if we do not stop them.  They have never liked us, never appreciated us as anything but inconvenient tools, and you will see how easily they cast us aside once they have reached their goals.

                “I am not the only one whose eyes have been cleansed of their dreck.  Many young Vislin have come to understand the importance of true dominance, of true mastery.  There are others, Ldkhl, others who do wish to see us prosper, to evolve, to become masters in our own right, and yet there are Vislin like you who still wish to let our slavers eat our eggs in silence.”

                With a sinking feeling Ldkhl realized who must have been subverting Klsk.  “The Mauraug, Klsk?  Really?  I hear echoes of their mad faith in the words that you are now clinging to.  Do you really think that the Mauraug would like to see Vislin evolve?  They fear us, Klsk, and there is no sentient, sapient, and civilized species that has a more extensive record of slavery than they.  Ask the Tesetsi how they fared under Mauraug domination.  Ask them how the Mauraug treated them when they were no longer considered useful.  What would the Ancestors think of you?”

                “The Ancestors do not exist anymore, Ldkhl.  They are dead and dust.  We are alive.”

                Ldkhl snapped her beak derisively.  “You believe in Sha’bahn but not the ancestors?”

                Klsk continued to examine her body through the field.  She knew that he was trying to make her uncomfortable.  She felt that her arguments against him were strong but her voice and manner of expression were weak.  Who could blame me?  None of the pack could be prepared for this.

                “Maybe I do.  Or maybe I don’t.  Perhaps I simply realize the ultimately utilitarian nature of Mauraug philosophy.  Even if Sha’bahn does not, Himself, exist, none can disagree that the urge to dominate exists in all sentient beings.  The need to control one’s environment - and by extension, other living creatures – is the most potent urge that exists.  First we want warmth, then shelter, then food, and we change the worlds around us to meet our needs.  Then we wish to not have to concern ourselves with the rivalry of others, and we do what comes naturally – keep them under our claws, or end their lives and feed ourselves upon what they have left behind.”

                Ldkhl was on firmer ground here.  “Sentient life must cooperate to achieve such ends, Klsk.  Many disparate monocellular lifeforms came together to form our bodies, and work in tandem to feed one another.  Many of us come together to form packs, and support one another.  Many packs work together and form nations, and thus improve one another.  Many nations make up our species, Klsk, and many species work together to form our Great Family.  Our Family – and many others – join together to form the Collective, that we may work together to improve our knowledge of the universe and the rules of our reality and protect ourselves from outside aggression.  Why?  So that we may improve one another, so that we may protect one another, so that we may support one another, and finally, so that we can feed the many monocellular lifeforms that make up our bodies and allow them to propagate, as has always been the way.

                “You abandon your pack, you deny the Great Family, you spit in the face of the Collective.  You insult every sentient being that has given the time in its life to contribute to and support our society, our knowledge, and even your personal well being.  Your pack has no need for one such as you.  You, Klsk, are selfish.”  There was no greater insult among her kind, and it felt like she was pulling her very heart from her chest to pronounce it.  She deliberately turned her back on him, still feeling his hungry eyes on her flesh, and began to stride towards the exit, tail held high and twitching in indignation.

                “I know that I will not leave this station alive, Ldkhl.”  Klsk called out after her.  “I will die fighting to free our species from bondage and bring it to its proper place of dominance, while you will die a slave to furry egg-eaters.  Tell me what you think the Ancestors would think of that?”

                Ldkhl paused briefly to turn off her interference device and walked out the exit, waiting for the door to swing shut behind her before turning to the human guard at his desk.  “Security Officer Meru, please patch me in to the Chief Security Officer.”

                Casey nodded.  “Hey Maeve, could you do the honors?”

                A holographic sprite resembling a human-like figure with veined wings appeared briefly above the desk.  Is that a representation of a human Ancestor? Ldkhl wondered.  “Sure thing, boss.”  It disappeared.  A moment or two later it was replaced by another projection, this time of the Awakener Chief Security Officer Lun.

                “Liddakhul, have you had a chance to speak to your packmate?”

                Ldkhl opened her beak wide, an unconscious gesture of fear and anger.  “No I have not.  Klsk is not a member of our pack.  There are no Vislin on the Lotus that represent him or his interests.”     

           Chief Lun held still for a long moment.  “Records indicate that Kalsk integrated into the nest that you belong to several years ago.  Is he not your packmate?”

                Ldkhl closed her beak and her eyes.  The others always see us as cold and unemotional.  They cannot read our bodies or our scents.  They don’t know, and the moment we attempt to show a strong display of emotion –show what we’re really feeling – they take it as aggression.  There is nothing that I can do differently here.

                “Klsk has abandoned his pack.  He is as meat for scavengers.  If you must find someone to defend him, find a Prophet of Sha’bahn.  I speak for our pack, and that is all we have to say on this matter.”http://www.empyreandreams.com/2013/11/featured-species-hrotata.html

Royce's Dilemma - Chapter 5

                 Ahalahtrr lit the tiny stick of incense as her body swayed in front of the altar, draped in rich, red cloth.  She trailed the incense about the projected image of Httraku, Goddess of the Wealth That Comes of Unusual Circumstance, and also around Ahraktta, the Leaping Lord of Lascivious Licentiousness.  The first pass of the incense was a petition, begging for aid in finding a better source of income in this remote corner of space.  The second pass was as an apology, as Ahalatrr did not feel that she had been paying close enough attention to her patron.  It was hard to live her devotion to him on an underpopulated station filled with prudish and occasionally hostile aliens.

                The holographic icons wiggled and shifted their whiskers in pleasure as she passed the incense in front of them, and Ahraktta winked.  Though she knew that they were programmed to do so, she found it comforting.  She carefully put the incense out (life on a station required that one carefully control combustion) and writhed against the front of the altar for a moment, trying to work up enthusiasm for her day in some form, and failing to even arouse herself.  She sighed and dropped to the cushion before the altar, curling up head-to-tail.

                “I can’t care about this place, Lord Ahraktta.  I can’t care about these people.  I’ve tried… I’ve tried so hard.  This dull, quiet job, these rigid Zig, angry Mauraug and stick-in-the-mud humans… My Lord, I fear that I won’t be able to pursue my devotion to you properly here.  Perhaps I will need to pray to one of the human gods instead, or abandon my faith entirely.  No one wants licentiousness, warmth, and comfort but the other Hrotata, and they already know of your glory.  They already know the release that you grant.  It’s the heathens that need to understand, my Lord, and I don’t even know where to begin with them.”

                She threw herself on her back in a dramatic pose of surrender, shivered, and went still.  Being the mobile creatures that they are, a Hrotata holding still was either very ill, in the throes of despondency, or dead.  Her immobile histrionics served to underscore the weight of her plight.  “Give me something to work with, Lord Ahraktta.  Give me a direction, please…”

                Her prayer was interrupted by a beep at the door.  Her head, hanging off of the pillow backwards and at an angle, perked up and all of a sudden she was all motion.  She pulled herself into a sitting position, licked at a few persistent ruffles in her fur, removed the ash of the incense from the altar, and moved to face the door, her back to the altar, swaying slowly and sensually in mock serenity.  How do the humans say it?  Fake it till you make it.  An admirable sentiment.

                “Come in.”  She called out in a singsong tone.  The door opened quietly, and in the doorway stood a very disheveled looking Hrotata.  He has not come to her before, but she had seen him around the usual gathering spots.  He was dressed in a security guard’s uniform, his fur was standing up in places, and his huge eyes were half-lidded.  This in combination with the slow roll of his hips and shoulders showed exhaustion and deep concern.

                “Please be comfortable…”  She couldn’t remember his name.

                “Hrrkil.”

                “Please be comfortable, Hrrrkil.  None observe us here but each other and the Gods.  Do come inside, and share my seating.”  She gestured magnanimously at an open spot on the large, soft cushion.

                Hrrrkil seemed to pause at the door, and looked back and forth in the hallway behind, then dove forward, landing on all fours, and scampered over to the cushion.  The door slid shut behind him.  He paused before climbing on the cushion, shivering slightly, apologetically.  “I am not a believer.”

                Ahalahtrr smiled and her swaying grew a bit more pronounced, welcoming.  “You don’t need to believe in the Gods to benefit from the services that their followers grant, Hrrrkil.  My oaths apply to any who come and seek my aid, not just those who agree with me.  Lie on your belly that I may help you to relax as you speak.”  She made a gesture, and the lights dimmed and music began to play, a music as thick as oil, as sweet as honey, punctuated by percussive trills reminiscent of a whispering lover.

                Hrrrkil took a deep breath and dove forward onto the cushion, burying his face in the velvet close to her base.  Odd that he isn’t touching me.  He’s spent too long among Zig and Mauraug.  We must correct this.  She bent over his prone form and began to gently nuzzle the back of his neck and his shoulder areas, tongue out slightly and combing his fur with it and the tips of her claws.

                “What burdens you, Hrrrkil?  What knots your fur so?”

                At her insistent grooming he started to relax, his tight, almost mechanical wiggle beginning to loosen up into a more natural and fluid movement.  “Dark times have come upon me, priestess.  Upon all of us.”

                You don’t know the half of it.  Ahalatrr mused to herself.  She continued to groom him, occasionally digging deep to work to unknot his muscles as well as his fur.  He would keep speaking, this one.  She knew the type.  Males who, like most males of her kind, preferred being on the front lines of action rather than involved in the women’s duties of governing, who nonetheless saw themselves as maligned and put-upon by the stress of their position.  Their self-importance and the pride that they took in their “work” (which, as far as she was concerned, generally involved romping about and posturing aggressively) was almost cute.  Try being a devotee or running a den for a month.  Then you’ll really know what stress is. Most males didn’t have the attention span or the emotional self-control for that sort of work.

                As she continued to massage, he started to speak again.  “It’s the Mauraug, of course.  One was murdered, its companion is missing, and they both have ties to the Apostacy.  Meanwhile, there is word of Vislin going rogue, aligning with Sha...” he cut himself off before uttering the name of a distasteful deity in her presence.  “… with the standard faith of the Mauraug.  I’m sure you've heard the rumors.”

                She hadn’t heard any such rumors.  “Of course, Hrrrkil.”  She said, taking time to nibble on his ears, combing the fur into place with her teeth and stimulating blood flow.  “Giving voice to your worries can help you to relax, though.  Take your concerns, make an image of them, and expel it from your mouth as you speak.  I will help to replace it with joy and contentment.”

                She could feel the tension mounting in him again.  Yes, yes, I know.  A life full of play and strutting can be so exhausting!  She chided herself for such uncharitable thoughts, knowing that they would help neither of them, and made her massage more gentle, trying to coax him.

                “Why do we support them, priestess?  Why do we allow the Mauraug of the Dominion into our numbers but shun the Apostates?  Fear of the Dominion is why the Collective formed in the first place.  Then hundreds of years later, we take them in, have to work with them and act as though it’s all right.  Meanwhile, we deny aid to the Apostacy.  The Apostates don’t want anything but to be left alone by the Dominion – the same reasons that our ancestors brokered the treaty with the Zig and the Tesetsi.  Yet we treat the Dominion as an ally and the Apostates as foes…” He tensed and froze for a moment, an angry denial.  “It’s wrong.  I can’t see how it could be anything but wrong.  The Mauraug hate us, they hate our freedom, our ability to express ourselves, even your faith, priestess.  The Apostates want all of those things, and yet we treat them as terrorists and traitors.”

                Which is why it is best for males to keep out of politics.  Sadly, the Covenant has more – and bigger – weapons.  Ahalatrr nipped the back of his neck sharply as she climbed up on his body, straddling his back.  “Sweet Hrrrkil, the Den Mothers know what they are doing.  Their wisdom has guided the Great Family to the stars, always in safety.  The Mauraug may be disagreeable, but with them as allies rather than enemies, we can change them gently.  Cease your worries – you know that stress can damage your fur, but were you aware that it can add fat to your belly?”  She tickled his sides gently and then stroked both of his upper shoulders for emphasis and was rewarded with a shudder of relaxation.

                The door beeped again.  Hrrrkil grumbled in displeasure beneath her, and she tapped him on the head.  “Quiet, little one.”  She called out, “Who is it?”

                “Detective Ushkar Bash’Torkal.  May I speak to Sergeant Hrrrkil?”

                Ahalatrr wrinkled her nose in frustration and was about to dismiss the detective when Hrrrkil lifted his head and called out, “Come in!”  He turned his eyes up to meet hers.  “It’s important.”

                Ahalatrr kept him firmly locked down between her knees as the door slid open.  She was not going to let him go, no matter how “important” he thought his business was.  When their guest left she would need to remind him of his place - physically.  It was often helpful to do so with males when they refused to relax.

                The door slid open, and in the frame stood a Mauraug.  Its black jumpsuit was trimmed with the greenish-blue color of Security.  Its fur was white as snow, as a star, and the skin beneath, where she could see it around its face and the palms of its hands, was a glossy, smooth black as though the void of space had produced a reflection.  Not just a Mauraug, but a pureblood!  She had heard that there was a pureblood Mauraug, one of the rare ones whose genes had not been damaged by the hideous plague of their past, on the station, but had not yet seen it.  Its longish fur looked very soft, and she had to fight the urge to climb up off of Hrrrkil to stroke it.

                It did something that she never would have expected.  Its legs bent, its knees touching the ground, and it opened the palms of its simian hands wide and spread them on the floor in front of it.  It closed its eyes and bowed its head.

                Ahalatrr had seen this gesture before - a gesture that Mauraug make to superiors, especially to their priests – but had never seen it directed to a member of any other species.  She forced herself to sway gently atop Hrrrkil atop the cushion, but the surprise must have been evident in her features when Ushkar looked up.

                “In this place you Dominate, priestess.  Here I am Ushah’bna to you.  Are my interruptions truly welcome?”

                She felt Hrrrkil begin to respond from beneath her, and she surreptitiously dug her lower claws into his flank.  He let out a small gasp which she quickly spoke over.  “Hrrrkil is engaged in serious devotions at the moment.  If you would enter, you must join us on the cushion, though you need not give obeisance to our Gods.”

                Ushkar paused to absorb this, and she felt the short, sharp twitches representing confusion from Hrrrkil.  “Please ask him if he would contact me when he is free.  I mean no disrespect to your rites.”

                Ahalatrr sensed that he was being genuine, which confused her more.  Since when does a Mauraug – a pureblood at that – not take the opportunity to disrespect any belief not their own?  She decided to salvage the situation as well as she could, and with decorum.  “I will inform him of your need once he is free, Ushkar Bash’Torkal.”

                “Then I will depart, with thanks.”  It rose to a fully bipedal position, steadying itself on the doorframe.

                “My thanks to you for your respect, Ushkar.  It would delight me to have you return when you can, at a time when your duties and mine are less pressing.”  She had to get a chance to touch that fur.

                Ushkar laughed softly before touching the floor again and withdrawing.  “Perhaps I may.”  His tone changed, pitch raising and becoming more formal.  “Many a master is served/during the time from sleep to sleep/though dreams erode our pride/true service brings us strength.  May you find strength in your service, priestess.”  He stepped back and the door slid shut, leaving Ahalatrr more than a little flabbergasted.

                She had almost forgotten about Hrrrkil lying beneath her when he whined, “I thought I told you that it was important.”

                Ahalatrr smiled, dreaming of soft white fur and glossy, smooth black skin.  Dreaming of a Mauraug that would bow to her, that would come unashamed to her altar.  Something snapped inside her and she grabbed both of his shoulders and pushed him down into the cushion.  “It is not your place to decide what occurs in the temple, little one.  You are lucky that your friend was so polite – you have already earned pain for your presumptions.  Mother dominates you here, not your metal-speckled playmate.”  She continued to push him down into the cushion, her claws digging deeper now, and she nipped viciously at the base of his neck.  Sometimes males can relax on their own, but sometimes they need to be reminded who is in charge.  It is time to crack this shell and taste the sweet meat underneath.  She turned all of her outward focus to her supplicant, but memories of feather-soft fur and powerful shoulders invaded her thoughts well past the conclusion of their benediction.