Life at the Outpost seemed to be settling down. After the fracas with B'arthon walking in on Angela, Jack had expected some fallout with the village, but strangely, none came. The following week, B'arthon showed up for the iron delivery as if nothing had happened on his previous visit. He was even as surly and petulant as usual.

Jack couldn't help but compare B'arthon's behavior that night, and the night he and S'haar had encountered the noble when he'd been running Ger'ron back to the ship. At the time, there'd been so much going on that Jack hadn't had the presence of mind to really think about how different B'arthon was acting from usual, but now, combined with the incident a week ago... At times, he seemed so short-tempered and idiotic; then, he was calm and insightful at others. Jack couldn't help but ask himself which was the real B'arthon?

Jack shook his head, and S'haar, walking beside him, looked down at him. "Something bothering you?"

Jack sighed. "Just trying to put all the puzzle pieces together is all. Despite how long I've been here, there are still so many mysteries to unravel."

Angela's voice cut in over their headsets. "Yeah, you've been here so long. After all, you've already been here for almost half a year. So why haven't you already figured out all the socioeconomic and political norms and traditions? You should be an expert by now! So what's it going to take? Seven months? Eight?"

Jack chuckled and shook his head again. "Alright, alright, you've made your point! Now, how's that mining going?"

Angela's voice shifted to a more petulant tone. "It's going fine! I can't believe that I give you the miracle of my new body, which some people around here still think of as the image of a goddess, mind you, and you put me to work mining? This is a waste of my talents!"

This time Jack laughed. "Well then, maybe you should have thought twice about co-opting the mining harness without discussing it with anyone! Make me a new one, and we'll split the labor!"

Angela sulked. "It's not that easy, and you know it! Without access to my fabricator on board the ship, I'm practically hand tied when crafting!"

As the two went back and forth, S'haar smiled. It was good to see them bickering so comfortably once again. However, her musings were interrupted by Sare'en's voice coming from the pens up ahead. "Grim! No! You can't go charging through the herd and scattering them like that! Watch me! Sit! Stay! No, I said stay!"

As they walked into the pens, it was clear Sare'en had her hands full trying to manage Grim and her new herd. It looked like she was trying to get the arlacks out to their pasture to graze, but Grim was having fun making the beasts cower. Finally, S'haar spoke up, her voice not nearly as loud as Sare'en's. "Grim, lay down."

The wolgen immediately obeyed and looked at S'haar expectantly, waiting for any further commands. With the great beast finally subdued, Sare'en's efforts to herd the arlacks quickly bore fruit, though they still kept a wary eye on Grim as they passed. Sare'en smiled meekly. "Sorry about that, and thank you. He's been so well behaved until now, but sometimes he gets a little overstimulated."

Jack nodded but eyed the wolgen with concern. "Understandable, but we'd best train that out of him quickly. In a few short years, him being playful could mean a bunch of dead arlack for us. Speaking of which, how's the herd?"

Sare'en grinned, patting one on the shoulder as he ambled past. "Well, they're not fully mature yet, but it shouldn't take much longer. Early next year, we'll probably be able to breed them just fine, and the herd will explode in numbers in no time. Some workers are already asking about using them for some heavy lifting." Sare'en proudly slapped the haunch of the final arlack as it passed by. The giant lizard looked back at her lazily before continuing after the rest. "It'll be much easier to move wood and stone with these beasties providing the muscle!"

S'haar nodded but looked thoughtful. "And how much training will the workers need to lead an arlack?"

Sare'en's hair rattled a little in nervousness as she contemplated the question. "Um, yeah... It wouldn't take much, but someone will have to teach them. I guess that someone is me, isn't it?"

Jack smiled comfortingly at her. "Yeah, but you'll do fine. I'm sure they'll be easier to work with than Grim!"

At the sound of his name, the wolgen looked up expectantly. Jack watched S'haar sigh before he spoke. "Alright, come here."

The wolgen shot up and happily bounded over to Jack, getting the attention of some of the lingering arlack in the process, but once they realized his attention wasn't on them, they went back to grazing. Meanwhile, Jack was busy giving Grim the wolgen's favorite scritches. "If you're a good boy and listen to Sare'en, there's lots more where these are coming from! Who's gonna be a good boy? Huh? Who's gonna be good?"

S'haar smiled again to see Jack in such good humor. This was probably the highest everyone's spirits had been since before Jack had first been injured by that kovaack last winter. A part of her wondered how long it would last this time, but she batted the final thought aside. It was best to enjoy times like these while you could.

*  

Ger'ron shook his head. "I dunno, lad. Most of your ideas leave me feeling like I need to catch up, but this seems kind of...redundant. No cloth'll be more effective than the armor plate we naturally have."

Jack leaned forward. "You're missing the point. True, the armor value of gambeson armor is negligible compared with your own bone armor. However, the benefits come in the utility."

Easing back into his chair again, Jack started counting down his fingers. "First, even a slight improvement is essential when it comes to armor, but I think that's self-evident. Second, this armor is warm. Given that you're cold-blooded, you won't overheat in warm weather, but it'll help you fight longer and easier in cold weather. Third, it'll help cover your armor plates, so finding the gaps with a sword or spear is harder. Yes, I know regular clothing does too, but this will hold together under far more abuse than a leather shirt. Fourth, and this is the tricky bit, even if a sword or spear passes through the gambeson, all the threads and fibers will pull on the weapon, making it harder to hit your mark accurately. It will often be the difference between a solid spear thrust that can pierce bone plate and a glancing hit..."

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The old guard finished Jack's thought. "That'll slide right off. Alright, sounds promising. What'll it take to make?"

Jack grinned. "That's the good part. Everything we need grows naturally down by the lake. Of course, it's a bit tedious to make, but if some old or disabled villagers wanted to help out, it doesn't take a lot of strength or coordination to pull off. Most of the work can even be done while sitting."

Ger'ron glanced at his own leg, then back to Jack with a raised eye ridge. Jack shrugged. "Not everyone can become a drill instructor in their retirement. I'm sure plenty of people in your village would love a chance to work and earn a slightly more comfortable life than they've currently got."

This time it was S'haar's turn to jump in. "More workers means more housing and food demands."

Jack shrugged. "Well, we're still teaching new woodworkers how to build the housing we're using. Everyone here is living comfortably enough, and they're being fed already, right? So we agree to take the workers that are currently not contributing as much to the village, give them meaningful work to do, and increase their quality of life in the process, and in return, we borrow one more hunter to meet the increased demand. It's a win-win."

Angela popped in over the headset. "Give me your tired and your poor kind of thing?"

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "Well, yeah, kind of. I remember S'haar telling me about disabled villagers turning to drink because they weren't useful to the village. We have the means and ability to make them useful again and compensate them for their labor."

S'haar nodded. "Well, you convinced the guard captain, and you've convinced me. We'll send word back to the village of our new offer and see how many are interested."

Jack looked pleased with himself, not that S'haar could blame him. Lately, he'd been diving into his role as the mysterious wise man introducing new ideas and technologies. The most recent arrivals might be more impressed by the metal goddess that showed up so dramatically out of the blue and occasionally strode through the camp, but most of the veterans knew that if Jack came looking for you, it was best to stop whatever you were doing and listen.

To be fair, Angela probably could have done something similar if she'd chosen, but she seemed content to let her brother do his thing while she did hers.

As if summoned by the thought, Angela stepped into the billet. The AI looked over at the gathered group as if she hadn't already known they were there and had been speaking to them moments ago. "There you all are! Each of you are past due for a checkup! I know you're feeling fine, but part of these checkups is preventing complications before they arise. Now, who's first?"

S'haar looked annoyed. "Why are you lumping me in with these idiots?"

Jack and Ger'ron both reacted as though her words cut deep, but their grins belied their performance. For her part, Angela wasn't distracted. "Because you were also almost permanently injured, and if you want to avoid that fate as long as possible, you'll allow me to make sure you're healing properly. Also, just for being rude, you’ll go last!"

*  

Em'brel inspected the framework with Fea'en. Everything looked sturdy enough to her, but the woodworking master had different thoughts. "I hope you all don't think this joint is adequately secured! I couldn't have trained whoever performed such sloppy craftsmanship!"

The rest of the workers looked on in good humor as the woodworking chief laid into her subordinate. Apparently, they were used to this, and so long as the offending party was willing to learn from whatever imperceptible flaw they'd been responsible for, the chief's wrath wouldn't last long.

Still, Em'brel wished this would just end so she could get back to the safety of the billet. She'd been finding it harder and harder to make herself pick up and leave when duty called, preferring to stay and dive into whatever lesson Angela had for her that day.

Or at least she wished she had S'haar and Jack with her. It was much easier to be brave in front of those two. It seemed like nothing could touch her when they were around.

Of course, she didn't want to diminish the efforts of her currently assigned guard, Jar'maal. Ever since the incident with the assassin, the young man had undergone his own transformation. Ger'ron told them how he'd been doubling up on the training the guard captain required of all the guards. Jar'maal's new determination showed clearly as he kept his steely gaze moving, analyzing possible threats while staying in the background.

Em'brel's musings were interrupted by a familiar whuff behind her. Turning around, she could see Sare'en and Grim coming up the slope. The younger woman couldn't help but smile at the look of determination on the herder's face as she carried a basket up the hill.

Setting down her load, Sare'en addressed Em'brel. "Eating regularly and well is essential for anyone pushing themselves as hard as you've been! If you don't return to the billet to eat, I'll bring the food to you!"

Fea'en looked at her granddaughter with some surprise. It was entirely new for her to take such a firm stance or act with such confidence. Noticing the attention, Sare'en turned to the matriarch, and a shadow of her timidity returned to her eyes as her voice lost a little of the newfound confidence. "I...uh...brought enough for everyone to have at least a light lunch..."

Fea'en smiled slightly at her offspring's child. She supposed a little backtracking was alright, so long as she was making progress.

When Grim started to stick his nose toward the basket, Sare'en's confidence returned as she gently but firmly swatted his snout. "No! You just ate, and this isn't your food, Grim! So be good, and maybe you'll get a small bite as a treat."

At the mention of a "treat," Grim suddenly became well behaved as he sat down and waited patiently while Sare'en worked. His eyes followed her movements as she cut up the meat and wrapped it in flatbread, and he drooled a little bit but stayed in place and waited patiently.

*  

Lon'thul was a little out of his element. He felt naked without the bow and arrows he'd grown used to. True, this was a different kind of hunt, but when hunting argu'n, there was so much more to pay attention to. Then there was his company...

She spoke quietly but clearly as she sidled up next to him on the hill overlooking their target, her voice thick with scorn and sarcasm. "Show me the great hunter who’s destined to take his fathers place as the master of our discipline!"

Lon'thul understood and agreed with S'haar's decision that she and the other visible members of the Outpost should stay back. as if everything was normal. These days it was impossible to know who was watching or speaking with who, and it was also true that Chal'ac was a great hunter, able to blend with the shadows better than most, but there was still something about her that put Lon'thul on the defensive.

She claimed she didn't blame anyone at the Dragon’s Outpost for her father's death. Lon'thul believed her, but when she’d returned from her hunt after Lon'thul presented her family with the coat of the wolgen Nala'ac had been instrumental in slaying, she'd apparently rejected it. Instead, she wanted to work for them herself, saying she wanted to get to know the people her father had died protecting.

Chal'ac had been polite enough with S'haar, Jack, and even seemed to like Em'brel, but Lon'thul always got on her wrong side. He'd never really gotten to know her in the hunter's den. She'sssss been quiet, and the only person she ever seemed to work with was her father. She was directing a glare at the hunter that would have intimidated stronger males than he. "Don't wait for a rescue if you go and get yourself captured! I expect you to get in and out without being seen or heard. If my father's stories about you were even halfway true, that shouldn't even be a challenge for you."

Lon'thul wondered just what kind of stories the older hunter had shared about him. He shook his head; it didn't matter. He had to do this right and not just to impress some angry female. "Well, I don't know about easy, but you're right, I have to do this quick and clean. If a cry goes up before I'm clear, I might not get out. Certainly not with another nearly grown male on my back. If that happens, your job is to go back and let S'haar know what went wrong."

Chal'ac merely nodded and returned her focus to the village. Lon'thul started creeping forward. Most of the village should be asleep now, so this was his chance...