“He said he understood,” his mother continued, “and that he would let me take you away.” He saw his mother’s eyes tearing up. “He only made one request.” She picked up the package beside her and handed it to him. “He said he wanted you to have this…when you were old enough. He said you might someday be struggling with who you are and what you might need to become. He believes that within this you might find at least a few answers.”
Hr’ent took the package and immediately recognized it as a book. He carefully unfolded the black cloth enclosing a leather-bound tome that appeared to have been roughly made. There were nine symbols embossed on the cover, arranged in a circle around the scorched outline of an Oogar standing with its legs spread and arms outstretched.
“Have you looked at this?” he asked.
Her eyes flitted to the cover, and she shook her head.
“I never opened it, but I know what it must be.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s called the Koduzai’Vahsh, and it’s what Feral spirituality and culture is based on. I’ve never read it, but your father’s people spoke of it often. It’s supposed to contain tales of the Nine Clan Lords.” She let out a soft laugh. “It’s what we were trying to cure them of, you see. Our missionaries were sent out to bring the Five Elements to those people. I understand, now, that there’s no place in their forests for our gods amid the rough, brutal world the Ferals call home.”
“Thank you,” Hr’ent said. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.
“It was always yours,” she said. “I just hope it can help you find a path that will make you happy.” She reached across and placed her paw on his knee. “All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. Whether it’s with the Peacemakers or the mercs or with something else entirely, I will always support you and help you find your way…as long as I can and as long as you want my help.”
Hr’ent suddenly felt a little guilty about his thoughts when the limo pulled up. He would always hate his mother’s opulence, but now, he understood better what she’d always wanted for him.
“I always will, Mamma,” he finally said.
“Good!” she said, her somber demeanor shifting instantly to delight. “Because we’re headed for a party in your honor!”
“Mamma!” he groaned as they slid through the wealthy part of the city, headed straight for a big party in a big mansion with a lot of people he really didn’t want to see. He rolled his eyes and let his head lean back against the headrest, exasperated.
A gods-damned party.
Shaking his head, he glanced down at the book in his hands. It smelled of time and the musk of a people he knew nothing about. He slipped it into his rucksack, determined to read the Koduzai’Vahsh as soon as he could.
His mother was rattling off a list of guests as they pulled up the long, cobblestone drive of her mansion. Some of the names he recognized, some he didn’t. He only listened with half an ear as he began thinking of friends he hadn’t seen since he left. Then his thoughts naturally drifted to someone he knew wouldn’t be at the party.
Her name was Tyl’sharn. She had once been the love of his young life, but he hadn’t thought about her for a year. The two of them hadn’t made any formal agreement, and when he’d first left for the Academy, she had only been his pre-mate. For his first few months at the Academy, they’d exchanged communications regularly, but after that, the messages became more and more infrequent, until finally, there had been nothing. He could only hope she still had feelings for him. He realized the answer to that question would weigh heavily in his decision making while he was home.
He glanced out the window and saw dozens of limos and expensive performance vehicles lining the U-shaped drive in front of the mansion. He rolled his eyes again. He really wasn’t looking forward to the next few hours.
The limo moved past the vehicles, under a large, stone entryway, and around to the back of the house where his flightcycle already sat, powered down. The sun was nearly beneath the horizon, so the lights around the carport had come on automatically.
The limo came to a stop as he shouldered his rucksack. He clambered out and held the door open for his mother. Closing it behind her, they strode side-by-side toward the rear entrance. As they walked past his flightcycle, she turned toward it and stopped, looking at him expectantly.
“Don’t you want to put on your Peacemaker vest?” she asked.
Hr’ent had to suppress a groan as he looked at his mother.
“Not especially,” he said evenly.
She shrugged.
“All right,” she replied a bit uncomfortably. “Whatever suits you,” she added, and the resignation in her voice was clear.
“Listen, Mother,” Hr’ent said with just a hint of frustration as he placed his paw on her arm, “I know you’re proud of my accomplishments…I am too. And I know you want to show me off to all of your friends. I get that, and I don’t mind—not really. I will say, though, I would have preferred to not run into one of your big parties the second I got home, but I sort of expected it. It’s just that I’ve come home to try and figure out what in the name of the Five Elements I’m going to do with my life.” He searched her eyes for a glimmer of understanding. “I don’t know, and walking around in a Peacemaker vest with my badge stuck to my chest seems…a bit hypocritical right now. You can understand that, can’t you?”
She paused for a moment, looking up at him with caring, worried eyes.
“I can,” she finally said slowly.
Hr’ent smiled slightly and took her paws in his. The urge to tell her everything about the Pushtal and his ascension to the First Claw of the Clan Roxtador nearly overwhelmed him, but he quickly tamped it down. It was a story for another time and another place. The story of his father as a Feral and his prescient gift of the Koduzai’Vahsh also called to Hr’ent and calmed him in a way he hadn’t imagined possible. He took a deep breath, reveling in the scents of home, and spoke softly.
“We do not have the conversations I wish we could have sometimes, and I understand it’s part of who we are…the different paths we walk. You have always been here for me, and of all the things I want to tell you right now, the one that seems to be the most important is thank you. Truly. Thank you for all you have done and sacrificed. I also want to tell you I love you.”
His mother drew in a breath to speak, but Hr’ent squeezed her paws gently in rebuke and kept going.
“I am the seventh Oogar to graduate from the Peacemaker Academy. The seventh. In the hundred generations of our clans who have sought life in the far reaches of the galaxy, only six before me followed this path. It is not a well-worn one. Many of its branches and turns are grown over, shrouded if you will, and will require careful negotiation. I may even need to turn back or start over. Right now, I do not know. I do know that I am proud of all I have accomplished, and I am proud to be your son. The rest of it will sort itself out in time—some of it sooner, some later.”
His mother’s eyes misted over, and for a brief moment, he saw a twitch in her jawline. The indicators of emotion were clear and seldom seen. She took a breath and composed herself, preparing to say something, when her eyes darted sharply to the right. In an instant, the authentic emotion threatening to bubble to the surface vanished. The polished, professional expression she’d worn for his entire life slipped over her visage and snapped into place.
“Senator Hrann’tt, what a pleasant surprise,” she cooed while releasing her son’s paws and reaching for the politician’s in greeting. While they sniffed and smiled at each other, Hr’ent lost their words in the soft music playing in the main room. At first, he was baffled by the alien instruments as well as the melody. Recognition, however, came to him a few moments later as a thumping cello gave way to a beautiful violin.
Boccherini. He snorted at the notion of Terran music playing at an Oogar cocktail party on Uuwato. Who said that music appreciation was a class lost on the Peacemakers?
After a moment of tryi
ng to contain the smile wanting to appear on his face, Hr’ent let it come. All of these people know nothing about me, nor do they really care that I am a Peacemaker. They care about their expectations. He glanced back at his mother. Their moment of intimacy was lost—likely forever. Hr’ent settled himself on the possibility of enjoying the party. As he walked through the door, he placed his rucksack on a credenza just inside. Looking up, he saw a familiar face grinning at him from the top of a central staircase, where an expansive bar stood. The owner of that face held up a tumbler of tsialle and grinned.
Hr’ent smiled. Maybe this night would turn out just fine, after all.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirteen
Uuwato
Capital City-State of Saasarra
The architecture of his homeworld was vastly different from Ocono’s. Ocono’s was blocky, efficient, starkly utilitarian, like the indigenous people who lived there. Uuwato’s buildings, inside and out, seemed to have grown out of the soil, as if each structure was an organic part of the planet’s ecosystem. Most homes, be they tenement buildings or the most affluent single-family dwellings, were made of natural stone, minerals, and wood from the surrounding area. Many incorporated flowing water in their designs. There were few straight lines, and where such existed, they mimicked the boles of trees for supports or the layers of sedimentary rock for foundation and decor. Natural colors abounded, and it was often difficult to pick a structure out of the landscape surrounding it.
Sv’rha’s mansion was no different, save that it rose like a hillock out of the steep mountainside where it rested. The interior was almost glade-like. The support columns within had been created from the boles of red marsupui trees, bark and all. The walls, curving up and over like the sides of water-formed caverns, were of marbled sandstone, with a mixture of pale reds, greens, and tans, and the furniture had been formed from the intertwined trunks of a wild-growing fruit tree called a rwalgia. The stairway was of natural cut stone, with hints of moss nestled into the corners, and the banisters were made of twisted vines that had been meticulously stripped of their bark and sanded to display the rose-colored wood beneath.
The home smelled of the woods and rain, and as Hr’ent’s friend walked down the stairs, he realized he had, in fact, missed it.
“It’s good to see you, Brother,” Hr’ent said, taking the tumbler from Raw’wna’s outstretched claw.
They stood at the bottom of the central stairs, surrounded by a mix of corporate execs, affluent business owners, and a handful of government officials Hr’ent’s mother was friendly with. He thought he’d seen the silver pate of Chu’mir, the Governor of Saasarra, standing in the open sitting room just past the stairs, and there was a small cluster of the Saasarra Law Policing Constabulary, including their Chief, not too far away. Thus far, none of them had recognized Hr’ent, which was actually a relief to him. He dreaded the moment when the assembled guests decided to congratulate him en masse.
“Good to be seen,” Raw’wna said with a friendly smile. “And congratulations on graduating the Academy.”
With their off hands, they clasped each other’s shoulder and sniffed in greeting.
Raw’wna was only a year older than Hr’ent, and a head shorter. His fur was considerably paler, and his amber eyes held a friendly intelligence that Hr’ent thought instilled trust. He’d chosen—like most of Hr’ent’s friends—to complete his VOWS and join an Oogar mercenary company. Raw’wna wore a sleek outfit of shimmering, gray slacks, a black, collarless shirt, and a crimson, kroka-skin jacket that would have cost Hr’ent three month’s pay. His boots were made of the same hide and matched the jacket in color.
“Thanks,” Hr’ent said, but the answer was subdued enough to catch Raw’wna’s ear.
“What’s wrong?” Raw’wna asked.
Hr’ent let out a long breath, his eyes drifting away as he considered everything on his mind.
“It’s complicated,” he replied, “but the gist of it is, I may be leaving the Peacemakers.”
Raw’wna looked surprised and then curious, as if he saw an opportunity.
“Is that so?” he asked.
“Yes.” Hr’ent locked eyes with his old friend. Most of his friends over the years had been the generic sort, and many of those were two-faced sycophants sucking up to the rich kid. But Raw’wna had always been there for him. “I’m not sure I joined for the right reasons, and now that I have the badge, I’m not sure it means to me what it’s supposed to.”
“You know what I always say,” Raw’wna offered slowly, “justice is great, when one can get it, but it’s also costly.” He put his arm around his friend. “As a Peacemaker, you could probably blaze through the VOWS, you know. You might even be able to pass the tests without really trying.”
“I don’t know,” Hr’ent said quietly, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe…”
“Hey,” Raw’wna said, looking mildly embarrassed. “There’s something I—”
“There he is,” a deep voice called out from above them, interrupting Raw’wna. A group of younger Oogar appeared at the top of the stairs, every one of them with a drink in hand.
Hr’ent and Raw’wna looked up and saw Kor’shi, followed by two other Oogar of Raw’wna’s age, coming down the stairs. All three of them wore the black fatigues of mercs, and the patches on their shoulders—a black Oogar claw on a red field—indicated they were part of the Shadowclaw, a famous Oogar mercenary company. He didn’t recognize the two with Kor’shi. Each one of them held a tall drink, and Hr’ent suspected that whatever was in their glasses was the most expensive libation at the bar. He remembered Kor’shi all too well.
“Oh, great,” Hr’ent said under his breath. Kor’shi fell squarely into the two-faced group of friends.
Raw’wna chuckled. Kor’shi had always been more Raw’wna’s friend than Hr’ent’s, which was probably why the two of them had joined the Shadowclaw company together.
“Raw’wna,” Kor’shi greeted him with a smile, then turned to Hr’ent. “Hr’ent. Permit me to introduce a couple of friends. This is Su’mar and Fen’wyn. They serve under me in the Shadowclaw, just like Raw’wna.” The two stern-looking Oogar raised their muzzles in greeting.
“Nice to meet you both,” Hr’ent replied, raising his own muzzle. He was surprised to hear that Raw’wna served under Kor’shi.
“Where’s your uniform and badge, Peacemaker?” Kor’shi asked, his voice sickly sweet as he stepped up.
He and Hr’ent leaned in and sniffed, as was customary, but they did not clasp shoulders.
“Stowed in my gear,” Hr’ent said with a bored expression. “I didn’t want to show up a bunch of second-rate mercenaries my first night home.”
“Second-rate?” Su’mar barked, bowing up. “How about we go out—”
“Easy, Brother,” Kor’shi said in a friendly manner, holding out his hand. “Hr’ent and I go way back. He’s just yanking our chains.” Kor’shi smiled. “Aren’t you, buddy?”
“Of course,” Hr’ent replied easily. “Everyone knows the Shadowclaw is top notch. I thought that was understood.”
“Hey, Raw’wna,” Kor’shi said, looking a bit concerned. “Where’s your uniform?”
“This is a party, and I’m not on call, unless an alert went out that I’m not aware of,” Raw’wna replied almost defensively. “Come to think of it,” he added, “neither are you. Did I miss something?”
“Miss something?” Kor’shi asked innocently. “Naw. You know me. I love the uniform, and the females love it even more. Not that you care about that much these days…” Kor’shi let his voice trail off. “Come to think of it,” he mimicked, “where’s that mate of yours?”
Hr’ent saw Raw’wna stiffen and get a nervous look on his face. He locked eyes with Kor’shi, and there was a very brief but unspoken exchange. Hr’ent couldn’t miss it, and it suddenly made him feel uncomfortable.
“She’s at the other party,” Raw’wna said slowly.
“
Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Kor’shi’s eyes flicked from Raw’wna to Hr’ent and back again. “Which is where we’re headed, as a matter of fact.” He looked Hr’ent squarely in the eyes. “We’ll see you there tonight, won’t we, buddy?”
Hr’ent looked surprised. “I hadn’t heard about a party.” He cocked his head to the side. “I just got here, remember?”
“I was going to mention it,” Raw’wna chimed in. “Why don’t you three head on over?” he suggested, glancing at Kor’shi and his friends. “I’ll definitely catch up with you…and I’m hoping you’ll join us,” he added, turning to Hr’ent. It was clear he meant it, but there was something in his tone that seemed just a bit off.
“I should be able to sneak away at some point,” Hr’ent replied, looking at the guests around them. “I’m sure my mother wants to make a formal announcement about my return. As soon as that’s over, I’ll be able to bail.”
“Good,” Kor’shi said smoothly. “I’m sure the other party will be a good deal more fun than this stiff-shirted yawn-fest, especially once you make your grand entrance.”
Hr’ent blinked a couple times, confused by Kor’shi’s words.
“It’ll be good to see some of the old gang,” Hr’ent replied. “Although, no entrance I’ll ever make will be grand.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Hr’ent,” Kor’shi said smoothly. “We’re all looking forward to your arrival. You’re a Peacemaker now, and that counts for something.”
Without waiting for a reply, Kor’shi and his friends strode past, making a point of walking between Hr’ent and Raw’wna. Hr’ent clenched his jaw in frustration.
They were a few paces off when Kor’shi stopped and turned.
“Oh, and try not to arrest anybody tonight,” he said with a mischievous grin. “You’re supposed to be partying. You remember how to party, don’t you?”
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