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First Contact
Chapter 578 - Stock Car Race

Chapter 578 - Stock Car Race

Brentili'ik watched as the Tri-Vee showed the parade again, focusing on certain Telkan in the parade. Various Marines that had performed heroic actions, ones that had overcome losing almost everyone, ones coming home to families that had somehow remained intact through the Enslavement Period and the War Years. Twice she saw a big human shown, in context with her husband and a handful of other Telkan that had rescued a bunch of Precursor Era Mantid from some kind of techno-slavery beneath a planet's surface.

She checked her datalink on the human, since the Telkan interest stories kept glossing over him. She remembered him from video messages that Vuxten had sent her during the year he had been gone, a lot of them during the transit between worlds.

Lance Corporal Cathal Julius Casey, signed up on Rigel. Home of Record appended to Blathmin Township, Bhaile-Prime, Tabula-929 System. She stared at the date of birth and checked again. Without temporal adjustment he was over nine hundred years old, adjusting for temporal compression he was over a thousand years old. Recently demoted for unauthorized use of power armor, but she couldn't get anything more from it, not even with her Planetary Director credentials. Her husband was listed as a known associate, along with a female Terran named Peel. She checked and saw the Terran female had been killed by the Great Die Off but had somehow been brought back to life by Lady Keena, who was listed as a Class-X Nanite Necromancer.

She turned off the record search and went back to watching the Tri-Vee, which had switched the discussion of the fact that the Telkan people were putting together another Marine Division to go with nearly twenty ships being commissioned.

Synthal'la came up, crouched down, and laid her head on Brentili'ik's legs. Brentili'ik reached out and gently stroked her head before looking down at her.

"What's wrong?" Brentili'ik asked.

Synthal'la looked up. "vuxten sad"

Brentili'ik frowned then checked her datalink. She knew he'd gone out for a quick run but she hadn't seen him yet.

It had been almost two hours since he'd left to go on his run before breakfast.

She checked her link and saw he was in their bedroom.

"I'll go check on him," Brentili'ik said.

Synthal'la nodded and moved to the side, following Brentili'ik as she went over to the stairs, climbed up to the second floor, and moved through the hallways.

Vuxten didn't move.

When she reached the bedroom she pushed open the door and slipped in quietly, Synthal'la right behind her.

Vuxten was standing in front of the wardrobe, nude, the doors open and held in his hands. He was just frozen in place, staring at the contents of the wardrobe, which was all his clothing that he had left behind.

Brentili'ik noted that there were several pair of pants and several shirts tossed on the bed. His exercise uniform (shirt, shorts, sweat pants, zip-up hooded sweater) was folded and sitting on a chair. His exercise shoes were beside the chair, his boots next to him on the floor.

There was a printed out paper jumpsuit on the floor, crumpled and torn, resting on the floor at the bottom of the wall, next to the waste paper basket that sat next to the night stand.

She watched him for a long moment.

He was just staring at the clothing.

The room was dim, just lit by the light coming in through the curtain over the window.

"Husband?" Brentili'ik asked, moving slowly forward.

"vuxten?" Synthal'la asked softly.

"I'm here," he said, his voice strange, almost disconnected.

"Are you all right, Vux?" Brentili'ik asked.

Vuxten just stared in the closet. "I don't have anything to wear," he said simply.

Brentili'ik slowly moved up next to him, looking in the closet. There were multiple pairs of pants, shirts, long sleeves torso coverings, even hats and gloves.

"Okay," Brentili'ik said gently.

"None of it fits," he said. "None of it's mine," he blinked, slowly, and kept staring. "I don't know who's clothing this is."

"It's yours," Brentili'ik said gently. "I'm going to touch you."

"I can't find my uniform," Vuxten said, still staring in the closet.

"It's being cleaned," Brentili'ik said, reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder. "Synthie is going to touch you."

Vuxten didn't answer, just kept staring inside the wardrobe. Brentili'ik motioned and Synthal'la moved up and hugged Vuxten from behind.

"I can't find my uniform," Vuxten said softly. To Brentili'ik he sounded confused, like he didn't understand why his uniform wasn't in the wardrobe even after she had told him she had sent it out to be cleaned.

"Honey, you're home," Brentili'ik said, rubbing his shoulder.

"home" Synthal'la said, nuzzling the back of his neck.

Vuxten suddenly shuddered, looking around. He looked at Brentili'ik and gave a smile that seemed to Brentili'ik like it was half forced. "Sorry, zoned out for moment," he said.

Brentili'ik nodded, leaning forward and rubbing the side of her muzzle against his, feeling his whiskers brush against her fur. "It's all right, Vuxten. It's all right."

"None of the clothes fit. I've put on some weight," Vuxten said slowly. He patted Synthal'la's hands. "You can let me go, Synthie."

"home now" Synthal'la said, letting go. She hugged him, licking around his eyes for a moment. "home now"

"Yeah, I'm home now," Vuxten said, closing his eyes.

"We can use the clothing forge downstairs, run out off some clothing," Brentili'ik said.

Vuxten nodded, holding Synthal'la's hand as Brentili'ik took the other one.

"What are we doing today?" Vuxten asked.

"I called in, took the rest of the day off unless it's a major emergency," Brentili'ik said. "I figured that afterwards we can take the podlings to the park."

"park is pretty" Synthal'la said. "like the trees and bushes"

Vuxten smiled as they walked down the stairs together. He looked around at the mansion around him. It was lavish, with lots of hardwood, expensive stone, artwork, carpeting, and rugs.

"When did this get finished?" Vuxten asked.

"About six months ago. Lots of people felt it wasn't appropriate for the Planetary Director to live in on-post officer's housing," Brentili'ik said.

"Why not?" Vuxten asked.

"They just felt it sent a bad message," Brentili'ik said. "Polls said that the Telkan people thought I should live somewhere more appropriate for the Planetary Director of Telkan-1 and Telkan-2."

"Huh," Vuxten said. They stopped in front of the nanoforge.

Brentili'ik watched as he punched in a bunch of commands, running through the context menus quickly. The nanoforge scanned him as he slowly turned in a circle with his arms straight out, then went back to punching in the commands.

The PLEASE WAIT flashed and Brentili'ik took one of Vuxten's hands while Synthal'la took the other.

"Remember when we wore paper clothing and ate unflavored nutripaste?" Vuxten asked. Brentili'ik noticed how his voice suddenly seemed far away, like he was commenting about a barely remembered Tri-Vid show that someone else had watched.

"Yes," Brentili'ik said, looking at Vuxten curiously.

"Remember how you, Synthie, Ilma, and I would all sit around the apartment naked because we didn't want to risk tearing or staining our paper clothing?" Vuxten asked.

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Brentili'ik didn't point out that most broodcarriers didn't wear clothing on their soft silky fur. "Yes," she said.

The under shirt printed first. It steamed slightly as it slid from the nanoforge on a hanger, the automatic arm grabbing the hanger and putting it on a rod.

Vuxten was silent as it printed out an overshirt with long sleeves and a collar, then a pair of modesty shorts, then a pair of pants. It followed it with over the hock socks then a pair of shoes.

Brentili'ik waited for him to get dressed but he just stared at the nanoforge for a long moment. He looked at the clothing, then at the nanoforge and rapidly punched in a handful of keypresses. It flashed red for a second but a quick set of keypunches and it started humming along.

Brentili'ik frowned as it seemed to take longer than it had for anything else.

Her datalink clinked.

"Madame Director," her Chief of Intelligence Operations said, his voice tight. "Are you near the downstairs nanoforge used for minor clothing?"

"Yes," she blinked the answer, unwilling to speak as Vuxten stood there, silently, watching the nanoforge. She could feel the anticipation on him.

"Someone just overrode the lockouts and is printing a gun belt and magac pistol," he said.

"Vuxten?" Brentili'ik said. She reached out and touched her husband's shoulder again. "Vuxten?"

He jerked slightly, turning and looking at her. "Huh?"

"Are you printing out a magac pistol?" she asked gently.

He blinked a few times, looking slightly confused. He looked at the nanoforge and then back at her. "Oh. Um. I guess so. I'll stop it."

He reached out and brought up the "Cancel and Recycle" icon and tapped it. "Sorry," he said. "Was thinking about something and wasn't really thinking."

"Are you all right, Madame Director?" her Intelligence Chief asked.

Brentili'ik hit the "I'm Fine" autocomplete answer and closed the linkage.

"Let us help you get dressed," Brentili'ik said gently.

Vuxten just nodded and Brentili'ik had Synthal'la help her get him dressed.

"Let's take the podlings to the park," Brentilli'ik suggested.

"That sounds good," Vuxten said.

Brentili'ik tried to put what happened, or rather, what didn't happen, what seemed to be missing, out of her head as Vuxten, Synthal'la and Ilmata'at put the podlings in their little outfits then rode to the park in the armored limo, guards with them the whole way.

She noted how every time he saw one of the unobtrusive guards, with their mirrorshades and ear pieces and datalinks and professional suits, a muscle twitched along his muzzle.

Playing with the broodcarriers and the podlings he seemed normal to her.

While they sat and ate ice cream and watched the Rigellian ducks in the big pond, she accessed her datalink, finding a file and downloading it to her implant.

Advice for Spouses of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Sufferers

She played with the podlings as they ran around the grass, sat with Vuxten and the broodcarriers as the podlings played in the playground. Laughed with Vuxten as they ate lunch from the stands in the concessions area of the park, then watched the podlings swim.

The sun was going down when Brentili'ik, Ilmata'at, Synthal'la, and Vuxten chivvied the podlings back toward the limo. She noted how Vuxten seemed fine, smiling and laughing the whole time.

She smiled and held Vuxten's hand while they walked back to the limo and watched him get suddenly silent in the vehicle, reaching out to hold both of the broodcarrier's hands as the vehicle quickly swept back to the mansion.

He seemed just fine to Brentili'ik and she thought about deleting the pamphlet after dinner, when they went to bed.

She woke up in the middle of the night, rolling over and almost going back to sleep before she realized what was wrong.

Vuxten wasn't in the bed.

She got up carefully, not waking either of the broodcarriers, and checked her implant.

Vuxten was offline.

She pinged one of the secmen.

"Yes, Madame Director?" one of them asked.

"My husband, do you know where he went?" Brentili'ik asked.

"One moment, let me check," the secman said. A few seconds later he came back. "He's in the back lounge."

"Thank you," she said. She put on a night time modesty gown and made her way through the hallways of the mansion, walking carefully on the stairs, and went into the back lounge.

It was a cozy room, with a Tri-Vee, a couch, a loveseat, two recliners, a coffee table, and a pair of end-tables with lamps. The rug was a woven pattern that was dark colors. The curtains hid windows that normally showed the back lawn.

The Tri-Vee was on but muted, the channel on the 'Grass Growing Channel' that Brentili'ik had always thought was a strange channel to have such high ratings. It showed grass slowly waving in the breeze, under a warm sun, with only a few puffy clouds in the blue sky.

She moved around the couch and looked down.

Vuxten was laying on the couch, in his exercise shorts. Three podlings were laying with him, cuddled up next to him, with Flopsy laying on his legs. She saw one eye open, focus on her, then close.

She stood in the dimness for a long moment, just looking at her husband.

He looks tired, she thought to herself.

Ilmata'at and Synthal'la slowly moved into the room, their ears back, their tails in front of their stomachs and chest and fluffed out.

"Shh," she whispered.

"vuxten tired" Ilmata'at said softly.

Flopsy looked up, wagged his tail, and laid his head back down, closing his eyes. One of the podlings shifted uncomfortably and Vuxten moved one arm without opening his eyes to let the podling get comfortable.

Brentili'ik ignored the unobtrusive security agent at the door of the back lounge as she gathered up the cushions from the love seat and the chairs, putting them next to the couch. She made a motion and Ilmata'at hurried upstairs, got the blankets, and hurried downstairs.

Brentili'ik laid down, pulling the covers over herself. Ilmata'at and Synthal'la snuggled up with her under the covers.

As she laid there, she stared at her husband's face in the dimness.

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"Any problems, First Sergeant?" Vuxten asked the next morning as the Rigellian walked down the stairs to the Orderly Room where his office was. He hadn't bothered with morning formation, since 90% of the Company was on block leave with a minimum time of one week and a maximum time of a month.

"No, sir," the Senior NCO said. "Nobody ended up in the drunk tank or in the cage, nobody got drunk and slammed a car into a family of four, nobody got in any knife fights in the barracks over an argument of best girl or best waifu."

Vuxten nodded. "Good."

"How was your day off, sir?" the Rigellian asked.

"Real good. Took the podlings to the park, had dinner with my family," Vuxten said. He smiled. "I haven't slept that good in months."

The Rigellian nodded. "Good to hear, sir."

"Anything major on the docket?" Vuxten asked, pausing in the Orderly Room. There was a single Telkan private present to answer the phones.

"No, sir," the Rigellian said. "Mental Health wants to run some baselines, I figured I'd get with the Training Officer and schedule everyone up."

Vuxten nodded. "Good. Let's not have anyone get missed. It was a hard deployment."

The Rigellian nodded. "I better get to it, sir."

"As you were, First Sergeant," Vuxten smiled. He turned to the private. "Anything important?"

"Lady Keena called. She wants you to meet her at Trevlik Green after lunch for training. She said Lance Corporal Casey and Tech Specialist Peel will be there," the private said.

Vuxten nodded as he unlocked his office door and opened it. "Keep me appraised of anything important."

"Can do, sir," the private said. When the door closed he brought back up the window of the novel about a Treana'ad moomoo and power smoker flavor smuggler.

Vuxten sat down behind his desk, then slowly turned the chair around to stare out the window. The back lot was empty except for a single ground effect cargo truck.

His implant pinged and he checked it.

471 had sent him an image. He opened it and practically busted up laughing.

All ten of the little green mantid had loud multi-colored shirts on and were holding fiberglass boards, standing in front of a blue ocean with waves. It was sunny and the sand was shining and the ten mantids just projected smugness and happiness. He could recognize 471 by the cybernetic antenna and bladearm.

All of the surfboards had the First Telkan Marine Division logo on them. It was entitled "Till Our Daddy Takes the T-Bird Away."

He turned back around, chuckling, and opened up the schedule for the unit, making sure that the essential people were on when they needed to be.

-------------

The sun was shining down on the grass of Trevlik Green, sparkling off of the leaves. The breeze was warm and gentle and the sounds of children at play could be heard from the on-base school.

Vuxten had his eyes closed, concentrating on what he could feel inside of him. Where there had been raw fury only a few days before there was a coldness, and emptiness, that was between him and the rage like a thick layer of armaglass.

"I don't understand," Vuxten said, opening his eyes and looking at Lady Keena, who was leaned back slightly to take the pressure off of her belly.

As he waited for her to answer he saw a bump push out on her belly and her entire belly flex and jiggle.

"Oh my God," Peel said from behind him.

"It is fine. He's just exercising," Lady Keena said. She put her hand on her belly and rubbed over the bump. "He's looking for me. He knows my voice and your voices and is becoming curious."

"I've never seen that before," Casey said.

Vuxten just stared.

"What is it that you do not understand?" Lady Keena asked, turning her attention from her belly to Vuxten.

"I can't reach it. I can feel it, but it's like there is something between me and it," Vuxten said.

Lady Keena nodded. "You have spent time with your family," she said. She nodded again. "It is good that it is there. That means none of this was wasted."

"I thought I was supposed to learn to control it," Vuxten said.

Lady Keena nodded. "Yes. That means you also need to understand that your mind puts that there to protect you, protect your family, from that rage. I would be worried if it was not there."

Vuxten sighed.

"We will do calming mantras today, practice coping techniques to let you deal with sudden anger and rage," Lady Keena said.

The baby pushed and shifted, the bump stretching Lady Keena's skin. Lady Keena just smiled and rubbed the bump. "He wants his shoulder rubbed."

After a little bit of instruction Vuxten looked at Lady Keena.

"I got up in the middle of the night," he blurted out. "I couldn't sleep in the bed. I went downstairs and slept on the couch."

Lady Keena nodded and Vuxten saw Peel and Casey both nod knowingly.

"I couldn't sleep on the bed," Vuxten added.

"I couldn't either," Casey admitted. "The first time I got back, I kept sleeping on the floor."

"I'd sleep under the bed," Peel said, shrugging. "The enemy had a lot of missiles, rockets, and artillery. I got used to throwing my body armor on the bed and sleeping underneath it. Took me a month or so to get back to normal."

"My wife and broodcarriers slept on the floor on cushions," Vuxten admitted, looking down.

"Your people used to build nests," Lady Keena shrugged. "Build the nest and go to sleep together. You must give it time, you are not a robot."

Vuxten nodded.

The baby moved again and Vuxten shook his head.

"He's anxious to be born," was all Lady Keena said.

------------

Brentili'ik watched as Vuxten moved all the cushions to the floor of the back lounge. He spread a thick blanket over the pushed together cushions and smiled at her nervously.

"It's just for a little while. Till I get used to being in a house," he said.

Returning veterans can have difficulty adjusting to what everyone else seems as normal but was denied to them due to the deprivations induced by the deployment and duty, she thought to herself, reciting what she had read in the pamphlet.

Synthal'la and Ilmata'at moved onto the blanket covered cushions. The podlings all giggled and climbed on with them. Flopsy barked and jumped into the pile, his tail wagging happily.

Brentili'ik took Vuxten's hand and smiled at him.

"Remember when we were too poor to even afford a bed?" she asked. "When we first got together?"

Vuxten nodded. "Hard days."

"I, we, survived that, we can handle this," she said softly. She led him into the pile and pulled the blankets over everyone.

The podlings giggled as Brentili'ik turned off the lights with her implant.

When she woke up the next morning with Vuxten still cuddled up with her, Synthal'la, and Ilmata'at, she smiled in the wan morning light.