Way of the Means Field Captain Strechen stood next to the Dra.Falten she had come to think of as 'her charge', one Rifleman Tawtchee. To her left stood the scientist Hrekkel and 'Call me Leeu'. On her right was the Captain and the First Officer, both of the females reaching up to nervously comb at the hair at the back of their heads repeatedly.

While the big ships were ornate, the dropship that Strechen could see on terminal maneuvers, controlled by the ship's docking computer, was lean and mean looking. Greenish-black metal with a hint of blue, black material where windows should be, wings with additional thrusters that folded inward, and a set of four engines in the back.

"Combat craft," Tawtchee said, standing up on his toes to speak softly in Strechen's ear. "See the bay doors on the side? That's for power armor or other infantry dismount as well as door gunners. See the bubbles with the strip cut into them? Those are firing blisters, crew or passengers can push the barrel of their weapon through and still maintain atmosphere. See those outlines? Some of those are compartments holding weaponry so that the craft can maintain its flight and sensor profile."

Strechen just nodded. She'd known it was a combat craft, but Tawtchee had pointed out things she didn't know about.

"Battlescreen projectors, about four times what we have as far as visible emitters. Point defense bubbles, probably lasers with a spinning mirror," Tawtchee said softly. "Capable of in and out of atmosphere as well as deep space work. Be careful, Field Captain, what we see in their shuttlecraft may be a reflection of how dangerous they are as a people," he touched her lower back, almost making her jump from startlement. "These are a people ready for a fight. What they did to those 'Mar-gite' they could easily do to the Empire."

Strechen just nodded slightly. She glanced over and saw that Leeu had her hand on Hrekkel's shoulder, almost as if she was restraining the obviously excited male.

A glance showed the Captain and her recently promoted Executive Officer looked almost sick as the ship thumped into place with the feeling of a great weight nudging the Dra.Falten ship.

The airlock pressurized and the lights went orange to signify that it was safe.

"They did not transmit any atmospheric requirements," the XO said nervously.

Tawtchee looked over at her. "Anything we can survive they can breathe."

The XO started to open her mouth to retort angrily, saw Strechen's expression, and shut her mouth, facing forward with her back and ears going rigid.

The light went red to warn that the inner airlock was going to open and Strechen found herself tensing.

She remembered the Terrors from the Path of the Traveler and the meeting after the nightmare inducing teleportation system. Despite everything, Magnus and his sister Surscee had been polite, almost friendly (if you discount the Sorceresses pants-wetting self-introduction she had performed) when Strechen had watched the video. The one they had met behind the desk had seemed only as malevolent as any other bureaucrat. She knew that whatever was going to come through that door was not going to be like any others.

The airlock door irised open, decontaminate mist shin high flowing out.

There were four of them. Three males and a female, the males arranged two behind the female and one male at the back. They wore no weapons, just a boots, belts, and comfortable looking gray and black camouflage uniforms. They had atmo-tanks at their waists, with masks hanging off of them.

They were also massive.

Strechen knew she shouldn't be shocked. She'd seen that Tawtchee only came up to halfway up Magnus's chest, slightly below Surscee's mammaries.

But the four Terrors in the airlock gave the impression of large, immovable, and powerful beings just standing in the airlock. The males were almost as tall as the airlock, their shoulders wide enough that they could only fit two abreast in a corridor meant for power armor troops to pass easily through.

"May we come in?" the female asked, her Dra.Falten perfect.

"Permission to board granted," the Captain said, stepping forward.

The female gave a closed mouth 'smile' that Strechen had learned was an expression of pleasure, happiness, joy, and, in rare cases, danger.

The male's expressions didn't change from stern blankness, although Strechen could see their eyes looking around the bay.

She took two steps forward and stopped, looking at each person.

Strechen realized that she had grass green eyes, with a faint hint of amber in the depths.

"I am Specialist Grade-Nine Caoimhe," she said. "Representing High Lord Captain High Lord Knight of Aesir O’Byrne, in command of Task Force Niamhchloch, which has been named Task Force Warhammer for your ease of speech."

Strechen noted it sounded like KEE-va and her implant translated it to meaning "kind", although, to be honest, the large Terror looked anything but kind. The words seemed overly complicated and had an odd weight to them.

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For a moment, Strechen could swear she could smell hot, freshly spilled blood.

"I am Captain Helt.rika," the Captain said. "I serve the Empress's will."

There was silence.

After a moment she motioned and the three males stepped out. The two behind her moving to her left and right, the one at the back standing in the doorway of the airlock. The males spread their feet shoulder-width apart and then put their hands behind their back in a smooth, crisp movement.

Strechen noted that all three males performed the action at the same time, as if they'd rehearsed it.

"Tradition demands that any joint venture, such as defending someone's homeland from invaders, requires representatives of the other party to be present," the female said, looking around slowly. "In most times, a representative of high rank, even a member of a royal family or highly placed government official, is required."

She paused for a second and when none of the Dra.Falten present spoke, she continued.

"However, the requirements of reality often conflict with tradition, so we of the Sancti Ordo Spiritus Tyr are willing to accept no less than two and no more than twenty representatives of your species aboard the High Lord Captain's flagship," she said.

"The Admiral has agreed to five," the Captain said, feeling a flutter of nervousness.

Those huge males didn't move, didn't even seem to breathe, just stared slightly over the female's head at the ceiling.

But Captain Helt.rika couldn't shake the feeling that they were a split second from ripping apart everything around them, unarmed or not.

The female nodded slowly, her eyes and expression unreadable.

The males just stared.

Captain Helt.rika felt sweat slick down her spine and barely restrained herself from bruxing her teeth nervously.

"As discussed with your Admiral, two ships will be remaining here to intercept and destroy any additional Mar-gite constructs that enter the system," the Terror Caoimhe said. "There will be additional negotiations with the Lord Captains of those ships, but that is not yet any concern of ours."

Helt.rika nodded, starting to reach up to tug on one ear and barely stopping herself.

"Your medical officers transmitted hydration, nutrition, humidity, and atmospheric requirements already. We have verified that our shipboard manufacturing systems can provide a comfortable environment for your species," the female stated. "We are unsure of your habitation requirements in stressful environments, so the High Lord Captain wishes me to assure you that we will make all possible realistic accommodations for your people."

"We understand," Captain Helt.rika said. She turned and pointed at Hrekkel. "Senior Scientist Hrekkel and his guard Imperial Expediter First Class Ee'eerlee'u," she then pointed at Strechen. "Field Captain Strechen and Male-9912743, her guard."

The Captain pointed at the XO.

"And, at the insistence of the Admiral, my Executive Officer Navelu'uee."

"What?" the XO blurted out. She looked at the Captain, then looked down.

The female Terror nodded, her face expressionless.

"The Lord Captain of the ships staying will discuss their requirements with your Admiral," the female said. She turned. "If you will accompany me onto the shuttle, we will move to the warship and get you settled in."

Strechen felt her stomach clench at the idea of being trapped in an enclosed area, even smaller than the receiving bay, with the Terrors.

Tawtchee touched the small of her back and she suddenly felt better.

Hrekkel nearly ran onboard, with Leeu rolling her eyes and bruxing her teeth in amusement as she followed behind. Commander Navelu'uee glared at the Captain, but followed Leeu.

Tawtche waved Strechen on, then followed her as they went down the boarding tube.

The shuttle was obviously highly militarized. Rather than comfortable seats or recliners, there were bench seats with locking restraints.

Strechen closed her eyes and swallowed as one of the male Terrors checked the straps and then the locking restraint.

"In case of an emergency, a shell will descend in front of you and you will be ejected from the craft with a search and rescue beacon. Based on your physiology, you will be able to survive two hundred sixteen hours while within the life pod," the female said, moving to the front.

"Does it come with free beer if we have to eject?" Tawtchee asked the Terror checking his belts.

"No such luck. Sucellus doesn't love us that much," the male Terror said back quietly, flashing a smile.

Once the belts were checked the door slid shut and Strechen could feel the craft vibrate slightly. There was a faint noise of an engine.

"Is that sound normal?" Navelu'uee asked, reaching up to comb at her ears nervously.

"My people do not trust any machine that is silent, we believe it is a bad sign or omen if a machine suddenly becomes silent," the woman, Caoimhe, said.

Strechen suddenly understood why. If the sound stopped, the machine has stopped working, and that meant something had gone terribly wrong.

It made startlingly simple sense.

"If you will pay attention to the video, the instructions you will see will ensure that there are no major problems," Caoimhe said, reaching up and pulling down a thin white sheet of material.

Strechen looked over in time to see one of the males reach up and activate a projector hanging from the roof.

A pleasing pattern appeared on the white material. A pair of crossed swords inside a diamond appeared.

"TERRAN INTERACTION AND YOU!" sounded out, with the words appearing below.

Strechen watched with interest and was surprised that several times Tawtchee burst out laughing.

The word "YES" showed a polite introduction. It was next to "NO!" which showed a Dra.Falten shooting at a Terror with a rocket launcher.

"YES!" eat politely and put away your plate.

"NO!" eating out of the garbage can and throwing food everywhere.

"YES!" sharing a drink with a Terror.

"NO!" drinking from the toilet by sticking their head in it.

"GOOD TERRAN!" showed a Terran talking politely to a Dra.Falten.

"BAD TERRAN!" showed a screaming Dra.Falten being chased by a Terran wearing some kind of mask, with a blocky machine in its hands that had a long blade with rotating teeth, swinging it wildly.

"GOOD TERRAN!" showed the Terran having a drink with a Dra.Falten.

"BAD TERRAN!" showed the Terran ripping off the Dra.Falten's head and drinking the blood.

"YES!" showed a Dra.Falten waiting for the airlock to cycle while wearing a vac-suit.

"NO!" showed the Dra.Falten wearing a party mask, a conical hat with a tassel, and just lower modesty clothing while the airlock cycled, drinking from bottles held in each hand.

Strechen found herself chuckling along with Tawtchee, Leeu, and Hrekkel at some of the cartoon antics.

The Commander sat, her back rigid and her posture offended.

"And remember, cooperation and understanding creates a bond that the enemy cannot break with his guns," was the final part, which showed a Terran and a Dra.Falten beating a five armed creature with sticks while cartoon sparkles and streamers burst from the creature's body.

There was a slight bump feeling, then the sound of machinery winding down.

The Terrans pushed up the locking restraints, undid the harnesses, then helped the Dra.Falten do the same. The female moved over by the door.

"Welcome, ladies, gentlemen, both or neither, to the Final Sight of Black Night, flagship of Task Force Warhammer," she said.

She slapped the button and the airlock cycled.