by DC Bastien
"Like you?"
"I did not have the opportunity to, here on Raboros, no." She sounded a little aggrieved, but not overly so.
"Reckon Kre ever let her hair down?"
The Sianar looked confused for a second, before enlightenment dawned on her brow. "Ah. No, I don't think so. Kre was always very... sober. Considered. I would doubt she has ever 'let her hair down' in her life."
"Am I going to put my diplomatic foot in my mouth if I ask questions?" Vadim suddenly wondered. "Because if I am, then I'll say only nice things."
"Captain, my father lost his composure in front of you. He considers you trustworthy enough to do that."
"That don't answer my question."
"Indeed not." Eru seemed pleased, not annoyed, by his precision. "You may speak frankly with me. I will not take offence, unless you mean to give it."
"Fair enough. For what it's worth, I have a thick hide, too."
"Was there something specific you wanted to ask me?"
"Yeah... I've met plenty of your kind, and some of them drink, and some of them don't. I mean, there's Humans as don't drink, but..."
"But you're asking if there's a special significance? For most of my people, no. The majority will drink, and only abstain if they do not like the taste or the experience. I believe Kre's abstinence is tied up with her... scientific bent. Some of the cu-- some of that community believe in bodily health to the extreme, in the same way that other religions believe in divinities."
"See, I knew you'd know."
"You were wise to ask me."
By now, they had reached a wide, open courtyard. There was no roof to the area, letting the warm, red-gold light of the low-hanging sun fill the area. Scattered stone benches - a bit too high for Human comfort, but perfect for Sianar - dotted the edges, and the square was filled with those sharp-leafed purple grasses that would shred a Human to pieces, but didn't touch a Sianar through their hides.
"Why did you ask if I'd been to any of your major outposts before?"
"I wanted to know how familiar with our traditional architecture you were."
"I'll be honest with you, buildings have never been my strong-point."
"So I should avoid taking you around our trophy-rooms, bathing pools, and Kre's personal observatory and laboratory?"
"I'd rather just sit here and shoot the breeze, if you don't mind?"
"I've seen the inside of these halls and stared at the sculptures of my ancestors for all my life, Captain. But a Human visiting is not something I see every day."
Vadim walked over to one of the benches, then with a little huff and jump he got up on it. It was broad, so Eru could easily take the other end without it being uncomfortably close, and she merely curled her tail around her waist and dropped down slightly to sit.
"I take it by your surprise at my presence that my sister never mentioned me?"
"Nope. But then, she never told us her real name until a few weeks back, either. Wore this dumb rug over her shoulders. Went by Kre-Nappre."
"Nappre? Hmm. That was our wet nurse's name. You see, our mother died shortly after we were born. Our father wanted to make sure we didn't follow her."
"Wouldn't artificial be fine?" Vadim didn't know all that much about babies of any kind. Well, no more than the fact they were smaller, made noise, smelled and kept you awake all night.
"Perhaps, but he wanted to spare no expense. My father truly loved our mother, I believe. He has taken no mate since, and had we not survived, he would have had to, to secure his lineage."
The Captain nudged some of the deadly 'glass' (as Humans called it) with one booted foot. "Well, I guess I'm glad you're both fine. Was it just the two of you, or are there more little fuzzies I'm going to need to meet some day?"
"We had a brother. He died some years ago."
"Right. I'm sorry."
"It was... an unfortunate accident. Perhaps Kre will tell you more, but bringing up Cil in front of our father may, perhaps, cause that incident you wished to avoid."
"Point taken."
As they sat, a brightly coloured bird nose-dived into the grass. There was a brief, pained squeak and a rustle.
Eru laughed. "They catch the little rodents. Many, many years ago my people would likely have eaten them in times of hardship, but no longer. It is strange to see how something that was once our prey would forget to be afraid of our presence, isn't it?"
"Guess so. But their lifespans are so short that it's beyond ancient history to them."
A few more rustles, then the crimson and black bird flew back to its perch on the colonnade.
"It is my turn to ask questions, I think?" Her tone was oh-so light, but something told Vadim that she was one of those political players, no matter what she insisted.
"Shoot. If I can answer them..."
"Why are you here?"
Okay. That was a bit more direct than he was expecting.
"Kre. She wanted to see your father, but she wasn't sure of the welcome she'd get until It-- until Enforcer Avery convinced her it would be warm. She's still hell-bent on spreading her gospel, think she just... wanted his blessing."
"I see. And the troubles that brought you to us last time?"
"Sorted. For now. We think."
"I assume you won't tell me what they were?"
"Yep. Kind of part of the fixing it, is the not mentioning it."
"I will pretend that I understand."
"It's what I do every day."
Eru laughed again, and this time it sounded genuine. "Come on. I'm going to give you the tour no one gets."
"No statues and endless hallways?"
"Not for you, Captain."
***
"You don't have to stay with me, Tho-Saidhe. You won't often get the chance to visit such a prestigious place. Not when you crew with this vessel."
"I would interject that it is not the vessel, so much as the vessel's Captain, Loap," Messenger put in, mildly.
"Yes. Apologies. I was using the term loosely."
"Understood."
Saidhe pulled her lips over her teeth to keep from smiling. She was sure that Mes was... well. A little more prone to insecurity and stung pride since she'd been put back into her old vessel. Mes insisted she was no different, but when out of her sensor range, Biann had agreed with her sister.
"I want to stay with you," Saidhe said, fidgeting with her violet headscarf. "High society isn't for me."
"It's kind of you to say so, but I'm sure you'd enjoy being waited on hand and foot. Most people do."
"Loap, no matter what they'd do for me, if you're not comfortable going somewhere, then I'm not either. When you feel happy walking into the Za's household, I'll be right beside you."
"I... would feel comfortable, I think. It is more that this is a private time for Kre. If she is happy to invite me, next time, then I will go."
Saidhe rolled onto her back, letting her head drop over the edge of the raised couch. "Have you ever been to Raboros before?"
"Once. When the final treaties were signed, they made several overtures of... reconciliation. School children from both sides were assigned correspondence partners, and we visited for a week."
"Oh? What if you didn't like your penpal?"
"You still had to write to them. There was resentment on both sides: you know how children feel about enforced 'friendships'. My assigned partner and I had nothing in common. When we had sufficiently exhausted basic pleasantries, we simply found draft letters and pasted the contents in. No one scanned for content, just basic heuristics to check we weren't sending the same word over and over, or anything openly offensive."
"You were quite the rebel?"
"Only when it came to matters of principle, not just for the hell of it."
The Roq leaned back in his seat, the chair tilting at the hinge to accommodate. His thick tail stretched through the gap, and he stared up at the ceiling. Just beyond the metal and glass... was Raboros. Home of his species' ancestral oppressors. Even
the planet hated his race, brought them down to their knees, panting. He could walk on the surface, but not much more. Anything energetic would require him to wear a breather.
"It won't surprise you to know that I was a bit of a handful as a child," Saidhe said, with a slanted grin. "Not deliberately so. I just... asked questions. I was already enough of an outlier because of my eyes, so I didn't have anything to lose."
"How bad is the discrimination against you?"
"Oh... nothing, really. I'm just considered unfortunately ugly. Children find it an excuse to be a little more cruel to you, and then it's the unspoken lack of a 'good' life partner. We're pretty much relegated to others with low-purple 'defects', or those whose social skills are... lacking. Nothing like the way you're treated, I'm sure."
"Even so, bullying and discrimination are not things we should condone."
"True. But B had my back. Everyone thinks she's this little sweet thing. What's the Human saying? 'Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth'. But she's got a wicked side to her, and she was more of a rebel than me."
"Biann?"
"Yep." Saidhe rolled back onto her stomach, pillowing her head on her arms. "She would smile sweetly at our professors, and then delicately rip people apart."
"I assume you mean metaphorically."
"Oh, I do. Mostly. But there were times when people's chairs... strategically failed in their structural integrity. Or in our calisthenics... maybe she was a little clumsy with passing the ball..."
Loap hissed in open amusement. "What an angel."
"Only, I'd normally get fingered with the blame... until there was no way to prove it was me. And Biann was perfectly capable of giving her best little innocent, angelic face and all was forgiven."
"Remind me never to get on your sister's bad side."
"I will. I don't think you've got anything to worry about, though. She only really gets annoyed by bullies and bigots, and no one on this ship has ever made a rude comment about my lack of Heliotrope."
"My dear, you can be sure that a superficial genetic trait does not make us view you differently. Even if you had three eyes instead of two, none of us would care."
"I would. Do you know how hard it would be to buy sunglasses?"
"Ah, Saidhe... do not make me laugh so much."
"You started it!"
The Roq clicked his chair back upright. "Have you ever been to Draqqi? My home-world?"
"Will you be offended if I say I haven't?"
"Of course not. I have never been to Aniba."
"Well then: I haven't."
"One day, we should go. Even if it is just for pleasure and not business. Most of the planet is now industrialised, of course, but there are still areas my people considered to be of natural beauty and significance, so they are close to how they always were. The Sianar never interfered with them."
"What's Draqqi like?"
"Vibrant. The plants are tall and the deepest greens you ever saw. There is a place we used to go in the summers, by the coast. Tall cliffs of rose stones, battered by the salt water. It invigorates you, and the calls of the sea birds..."
The Hleen let her eyes drift shut. "It sounds blissful."
"When I retire - if I live that long - it is where I would want to end my days. Caught between the sea frets and the sand."
"Me... I'm not sure I could give up space-faring life. I like going planetside, don't get me wrong, but without the hum? It's... it's too quiet."
"You would just need to find something else to replace the hum, Saidhe. Worlds can have noises all of their own."
"Maybe one day."
***
[Sianor: I am imagining cliffs of rose quartz, glinting in the sunlight, and it's beautiful.]
[Ashroe: That's what I was going for. There was a spa I visited, once. Had a rose quartz crystal and thick, salty air on steam.]
[Sianor: I'm getting goosebumps!]
[Ashroe: It was so very, very relaxing. Have you ever been to a spa?]
[Sianor: No :(]
[Ashroe: Oh, you're missing out. Jumping in and out of hot and cold, getting pretty little waifs to pound your muscles into submission... mmm.]
[Sianor: Okay, it's going on my bucket list.]
***
"So where are you taking me?" Vadim asked.
"You said you were not easily insulted, Captain. Does history offend your sensibilities? Things before your time, things of record and note?"
The Captain wasn't sure where she was going with this. He wasn't exactly a historical scholar, but he wasn't an idiot, either. He knew about as much as the average person did, it was just that his interests lay more in fiction as an escape than studying things that happened before he was born. "Can't say it's ever put my nose out of joint before."
"There are items here that we keep, because they are part of our past. We do not use them anymore, and we do not display them, but we do not deny they are part of our heritage."
"...you're not taking me to a creepy torture dungeon, right?" Vadim squinted up at her. She was very, very different from her sister.
"Captain, please; what do you take me for? I am just going to show you some of our cultural heritage we now only use in high ceremony. Perhaps once, twice in a normal lifespan."
The tall Sianar lead him away from the courtyard, down some heavy, deep steps. Going down was okay, but Vadim was already dreading the ascent. Where the layout upstairs had been bright and airy, below the building was sturdy and functional, not beautiful. He suspected that it was a combination of the necessity of strong foundations, along with the age of the lower section. The lighting was sufficient, but not wonderful.
"This is where we would retreat in times of unrest. Although the records state the palatial building was never threatened, I doubt it. Likely it is propaganda."
"How many floors does the building have?"
"Three above, three below. Only the first five are in use, the lowest is where we're going."
"I see. Not gonna trigger alarms or anything?"
"No. Kre and I found this place as youngsters. We used to hide down here for hours on end, telling stories."
Finally, after three flights of stairs, they came to a floor that looked dusty from lack of use. Eru ran a claw over something, and the lights flickered brighter. "It's fine, Captain, I assure you. I'm one of the Za's heirs. No one will accost us."
"If you say so."
Four rooms down the hall, and he recognised the seal on these wider doors. She authorised their entry and they were in a room that must have taken up two storeys, considering how vaulted it was. Here there were proud archways, and all the walls were either painted or hung with rich tapestries.
He saw weapons - some ceremonial and most clearly not - with a wall devoted to guns and electrical warfare, and another to much older, bladed weapons. There were some of those long staves that Sianar of the past had favoured, which had a deadly scythe-like blade on either end, as well as heavy bolas where weighted balls on ropes would be thrown to tangle up the legs of an enemy and incapacitate them. These old weapons were a mixture of rusted and battered, and others made of fine materials. Sianar prised silver above all other metals - using gold mostly in engineering - and it was this colour that predominated the more ornate and ceremonial pieces.
In the middle of the room were mannequins that Vadim wasn't entirely sure were faked. He could easily guess that the furry replicas were taxidermy, with skinned hides put over wooden and metal frames. The creepiest part was the lack of eyes, and he found himself trying to avoid looking at them, but somehow always drawn back to them. The mannequins were dressed in armour of different periods, from the stiffened leathers and brasses with silver accents, up to more modern materials like kevlars and bullet-proof protective suits. Even the older ones looked flexible in the extreme, leaving the wearer free to chase down their prey.
"We have always prided ourselves on our... abilities. It was always a huge cornerstone of our bloodlines, Captain. To be a strong warrior i
s to be a strong Sianar."
"So why is this all down here?"
"To protect the sensibilities of the... wider community."
"And you disagree?"
"I think we are who we are, Captain. Even if we are not currently at war, war is what made our people strong. Breeding rights and social structures were based on who could secure a future for their children. Yes, we subjugated the Roq... but they allowed us to."
Whoa. Okay. That was a bit much, even for Vadim, who tried to be as open-minded as he could be. "Yeah. And that stopped. And now it's over."