Chapter 382

The heavily armored grav-limo settled down with the characteristic whine of depowering grav-lifters.

We like to know when something's working, went through Matron Captain Nakteti's mind, her bodyguard slash friend Major Carnight's voice quiet.

The Major got out first, from where he had been sitting next to the Pubvian driver. Nakteti watched him make a quick scan, then open up the door for her. The stairs automatically unfolded as she set down her wine-glass and stood up. She was clad in expensive cloth, her dress leaving her hands and her gripping arms free. She had an entire jewelry set on her body, the precious metal and gems gleaming and glittering in the lights of the cameras that jockeyed for position to get a good recording of her.

She slowly moved out of the limo, taking her time, not bothering to rush. A hasty Tnvaru was a foolish Tnvaru. She paused halfway down to let the journalist's flycams get good footage of her, then descended the rest of the way to stop at the bottom of the stairs, her feet on the flat flagstones of the walk.

Major Carnight's eyes were dull red as he followed Matron Nakteti into the lavish building. He kept scanning the rooftops, examining the journalists. His retinal link checked the journalists against the master list of profiles he had loaded up, so far masking everyone green.

They were all Pubvians.

The flagstones led to stairs, which led to a door, which led to a hall, which opened into a large hall. Food was set up on either side of the room, music was being performed by a large band and piped through discreet speakers, drinks were plentiful, and fully masked and covered Pubvians moved about with dishes.

The first thing that struck Nakteti was how many Pubvians were unmasked, outside of environmental or hazard armor. The amount of fur on display wasn't scandalous, not by Nakteti's standards, but it was almost shocking after days of only seeing the seamstresses outside of hazard suits.

Nakteti paused for a long moment just inside, letting the servants remove her long gauzy cape from her shoulders and carry it away, accepting a glass of wine that her implant compared the invisible-to-the-naked-eye markings on the clear crystal glass to the database in her implant to inform her that the wine was able to be metabolized by her system and would act like wine rather than something terrible that would leave her embarrassed.

She sipped at the chilled wine, not showing any surprise at the industrial diamonds at the bottom, their perfect clarity making them almost invisible inside the white wine. The glass had small gold lines around the rim that let her know the wine was provided by a heavy industrial concern.

An appreciable and surprisingly subtle display, she thought to herself as her eyes scanned the crowd.

Union leaders, political officers, corporate magnates, consortium leaders, military officers, regional governors, and more.

She choked back a laugh when her implant caught Major Carnight's hand and labeled him: "Terran Military Liaison - Extremely Dangerous - Approach with Submission" as a warning.

Deciding to move to where she felt most comfortable, she slowly moved across the room, weaving between small groups discussing and plotting. Her shoes had a slight glow around them, spilling light an inch or so to the sides, that changed color slowly as she walked.

Again, she had to surpress an expression of amusement. Her catching shoulders only came up to Major Carnight's beltline, making her only half his size and a quarter of his mass. She was the same size as the Pubvians, meaning Major Carnight strode through the crowd like a giant.

She took the time to examine the reaction of the Pubvians to him. They were unmasked, much of their fur exposed to reveal patterns, dyes, and decoration, many of the females wearing gauzy outfits designed to obvious titillate others.

She knew, down to her bones, that the alluring display had almost nothing to do with carnality and everything to do with dominance over others, including those who did not reach the same standards by cultural beauty norms as the person making the display.

This was a battlefield she was more experienced at. Again, she wished her mother was here. Matron Sangbre was a veteran of a thousand battlefields, leaving behind nothing but allies and wreckage in her wake, who had grappled with enemies in the Consortium Corporate Boardroom even before Nakteti was conceived.

But her mother was trapped on Terra, which had somehow removed itself from the universe to battle the might of the Lanaktallan Empire.

Nakteti felt a slow shiver down her spine at the thought of being trapped between the highly martial lemurs and the unending tide of Lanaktallan martial might.

Her implant let her know who was in the small group, that made a gap for her in their huddled group as she approached to let her know she was welcome, perhaps eagerly, to join them.

She pretended not to notice the way the Pubvians stared at Major Carnight, who's dress uniform made him look, if anything, more dangerous and competent then his battle dress.

Perhaps it was the fact that the tailored uniform, resplendent with awards and gold and brass and warsteel decorations, was in sharp contrast to the utilitarian, almost brutally so, Mark-2 Cutting Bar and the heavy magac pistol at his waist.

Or perhaps it was because he was taller, thicker, and more massive than everyone around him.

"Matron Nakteti," a Pubvian who Nakteti's implant marked as Doctor Shankaree said, lifting her glass slightly. "How do you find our world?"

The setup was too perfect, she had seen it in too many of the Terran entertainment videos.

"You leave jumpspace and there you are, fourth planet from your stellar mass," she said softly, nodding slightly and giving a slight smile. "My navigator would know more, as I am merely the ship's captain and he is the one who makes sure I don't fly us into the side of a random monolith."

That got laughter and the Doctor who had asked the question smiled with amusement sparkling in her eyes.

It was slightly strange for Nakteti, who had been only around Tnvaru and Terrans for the last two years, to see someone with completely biological eyes that did not hold a glow, but she pushed the strangeness aside.

"Is it true you have been to Earth recently?" another female asked. Nakteti's implant informed her that the female was the leader of a shipping company. "How are the Earthlings?"

"Earthlings?" Nakteti frowned before her implant could give her any answer.

"Oh, Terrans," the female said. "They call their world Earth and call themselves Earthlings. Or, at least, they did when we knew them."

Point to you, Nakteti thought. Her implant was throwing up the information that earth was another word for dirt. They used the word for dirt for their planet's name, which makes sense. The dirt they could touch was their world. It makes their world less an esoteric thing, more something they can touch, experience, and provides a deep connection to their world. It would be easy to mistake it as dimness or a cultural quirk.

No, it has to do with how they see themselves. Made from dirt, made from the Earth itself, by powerful deities in their ancient legends and oral histories. They are children of that planet, children of the dirt itself. Earth as the planet's name makes sense, she thought, all of it going through her mind in less than a second.

"They call themselves Terrans or Solarians or Terran Descent Humanity now," Nakteti said. She knew her next sentence was critical and went the way of conciliation. "Earth and Earthlings sound much more friendly, they must have been close to you indeed, where we have only known them a little over two of their years."

The one who had spoke nodded, flicking her ears, as did the other gathered females.

"Of course, it could be the fact that the Terran Military is what my people have largely seen," Nakteti finished.

Another one, this one labeled as the owner and CEO of a pharmaceutical mego-corp, accepted another glass of wine and turned back to Nakteti. "So the malevolent universe, as the Earthlings believe, has decided to again test its hated children?"

Nakteti nodded. "The Unified Civilized Council, specifically the Lanaktallan, who are the dominant species of the council, ruling with the others with an iron fist," she said. "One of the Precursor species who have dominated their part of the Galactic Stub for over a hundred million years."

A younger female, the daughter of a Pubvian female that owned hundreds of medical clinics, spoke up. "They will not rule a hundred and one million years," she said softly. "The humans will wrap them in chains of blood and drown them in the waters of history."

That got nods and slight looks at Nakteti to see how she would answer, to either prove or disprove the younger one's claim.

Nakteti accepted a small tuft of vegetation, dipped it in sauce, and nibbled at it.

"The Unified Council possesses thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of worlds, tens of billions of soldiers, trillions of citizens with just the Lanaktallan, not to mention the rest of the member species of the Unified Council," she said. She took another nibble. "However, militarily, the Lanaktallan and the Unified Military Council, like everyone else who has tried their hand against the Terrans, have come up lacking. From what I understand, there is very little militarily that the Unified Military Council can do to resist the Terrans."

"Is it true they were foolish enough to attack Earth itself? To throw themselves against Fortress Sol?" another asked. Again, Nakteti noticed it was a younger one, grand-daughter to a mining consortium.

Nakteti nodded. "The Lanaktallan are not known for their pattern recognition, especially when the pattern is not one they want to see. The Mantid diplomat team could have told them how foolish it was to attack Terra had they asked."

There was silence for a long second and Nakteti watched the others carefully.

"All of you are more nervous than a two legged male at a genital kicking contest," an older one suddenly snapped, stepping forward. Nakteti's implant tagged her as the CEO and owner of multiple mega-corps, two shipping lines, a singing label, and even an entertainment video studio.

"After the Mantid destroyed us, attacked Earth, attacked the Treana'ad," the female said.

"They did not attack the Treana'ad, they offered them a truce," Nakteti said. "The Treana'ad had the numbers to offset the Mantid."

The older Pubvian nodded. "Well, once the Third Republic had been attacked," she paused for a second and Nakteti could feel the tension ramp up. "What happened?"

Nakteti didn't say anything.

"What... what happened to the Mantid? Why did the Earthlings spare them? How did the Earthlings spare them?" Krestalli asked, her eyes wide and her nose wrinkling slightly with the stress. She glanced at Major Carnight. "The Third Republic was only a few short weeks ago for us."

"How did the Mantid defeat the Immortal Janissary?" another whispered. "They are all gone but Daxin, how?"

"How did the Confederacy arise?" another asked.

The oldest one, Krestalli, made a chopping motion with her middle hand. "Enough," she looked at Nakteti. "We do not want the story in the histories, in the history files that seem to have been altered while we were dead, we want to know the truth," she took a deep breath, leaned forward, "Tell us, outside officialdom, is the Terran Confederacy strong enough to resist another species of Ancient Ones come to destroy all that is soft and wonderful?"

Nakteti thought for a long moment. "I fear," she said softly. She glanced at Major Carnight, making it obvious to the surrounding female Pubvians, "That the answer is less can they defeat the Unified Council, but what does a malevolent universe really intend on producing?"

That made all of them nod.

Refledrex, a female Pubvian who owned star liners, nodded slowly.

"Terra was attacked by a Precursor Autonomous War Machine before they even colonized another stellar system," one of the females who's names were in small type said softly. "Their first Precursor contact."

"The Mantid attacked, wiped us out, wiped out the Oomnaverra, damaged the Terrans," another small type labeled female said softly, hugging herself with her two outside arms.

"Then a second type of Precursor attacked you, a Precursor Autonomous War Machine built by the Mantid, and you were saved by Daxin the Janissary, who fought the Mantid, who fought the War Against the Machine," another said.

Nakteti stared at the eldest Pubvian, ignoring the ones who were talking softly's presence but listening to their words and watching the eldest's expressions.

"Then the Lanaktallan, the creators of the Ancient Warship, attacked the Terrans," another said.

"Soon, we fear, another Ancient Warship will attack, heralding the arrival of another Precursor species, as they attempt to reestablish dominance over the Galactic Arm Stub," another said softly.

"Your people are in need of assistance," the eldest one said. "The Pubvian people are willing to assist them."

"And what will this assistance cost?" Nakteti asked. She laid her ears flat. "We were forced to submit to the Lanaktallan, to the Unified Council. Our homeworld was destroyed by the Autonomous War Machines and we were forced to flee. We will no longer submit to a malevolent universe."

Krestalli made an outward signal of pleasure. "To stand with us, as we stand with Earth. To help us understand this new universe where even those that die no longer stay dead."

She looked up at Major Carnight, still speaking.

"Pubvia needs allies, allies who are new to the Confederacy as Pubvia," she said. "Allies are willing to raise their voices with the great hairless ape's roar of 'we will not yield.'"

Nakteti nodded. "I will have to speak to my people. I speak only for my ship."

"Sometimes, it is one ship that can make the difference," another Pubvian said.

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Nakteti sat down, stripped down to her modesty garments, and picked up the heavy brush made of precious metals and inlaid with precious biological extrusions like 'mother of pearl' and naturally flawed gems. Gems could be made, but natural flawing only occurred in naturally occurring gems.

She began brushing her fur, slowly, thinking over the party. Not just what was said but how it was said, body language, the topics, and who maneuvered to speak with her and who had not.

Nakteti had noticed that not even the Pubvian military officers had approached her that night, politely making small talk until they could break away, and avoiding Major Carnight completely as often as possible.

That told her a lot. They were worried, despite devoting their entire fleet, about the war against the Unified Council.

The Pubvians were looking forward, past the war against the Unified Council, but what the tides of destiny could carry their way next.

She had avoided making any promises, had dribbled out information, and in return gotten a wealth of information and more than a few promises in return.

Nakteti looked at Major Carnight's reflection in the mirror, noting how he was slightly blurry.

Only the dull red of his eyes clearly visible.

The ties that bind us can also be the chains that weight us down.