Chapter 112: First Claw
The brothers separated, Robert wearing an uncharacteristically tearful smile, while Joseph was struggling to maintain his own. Thankfully, Pan picked up the slack for him by displaying his otherwise marred elation more concisely. He supposed she was especially happy the two had reunited.
“I guess I should Introduce you to everyone that kept me sane, huh?” he chuckled, feeling remorseful that the first on that list would never get the honour, but knowing Mama would pester him from the grave if he let something like her passing get in the way of what was supposed to be a joyous occasion.
The Grand Hunter nodded towards Nalah and Sahari, the latter being a more faithful recreation of his emotional duality. “You’ve met Nalah and Sahari. They’ve been critical to keeping this place up and running.”
Rob smirked. “They seem competent.”
“I assure you, they are.” He gave a fond glance towards the two, Nalah wearing a grin at the compliment, but the black-furred mate just looked proud to be complimented for her hard work. They knew he meant it, and it was nice for them to have brighter expressions.
Joseph held an open palm towards their white-furred company, his bonded mate in the process of coaxing Violet up from the ground. “Pan, obviously. Needless to say, I would have died a long time ago, if not for her.”
The female in question blinked, stunned by the assertion. A shift of her eyes told that she was genuinely surprised by how honest he was being, and the bashfulness was all he needed to know that she thought he was overselling it. She blushed, her ears flicking in embarrassment as she successfully helped their daughter up.
“I do not think I deserve so much credit.”
“Pan,” the eldest brother dragged out in warning. “This idiot would have gotten himself killed trying to provide for Mama and Violet. If nothing else, you gave him a way forward instead of letting him push himself to make up for deficiencies that either don’t exist, or don’t make up who he is.”
“We owe everything to his kindness when we were at our weakest. We would have been lost to the Void without him,” she refuted, turning pink in the face. Rob snorted, raising a brow at his brother. The Grand Hunter shook his head lightly, not wanting to get involved, but also amused to see a cute side of Pan that had become sorely underutilized as of late.
“You can deny it all you want, but your name was the first one on his lips whenever I called*,*” the Martian continued, placing a hand on her shoulder firmly. She jumped at the contact, but didn’t refuse it, her ears turning forward as he lowered his voice. “Emma broke him. You were a critical part of putting him back together. You can try to convince yourself of anything else, but I mean it... Thank you.”
Lacking an intelligible response, she settled for nodding, her eyes fixed downwards as she fidgeted under the praise and gratitude she was in no way ready to accept.
“Yeah, hard to believe it’s been so long since you were losing your shit at seeing her,” Joseph ribbed, more than ready to take a jab back at his brother now that the serious portion of his little speech was over.
Robert burst out laughing. A few moments passed until the man calmed down enough to respond, the dying chuckles permeating through his words. “Still trying not to! Look at her!”
He shook his head. “I knew you’d get a kick out of it. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not frothing at the mouth to go around talking to everyone or making old references they’ll never get.”
Rob winked. “In due time.”
“Moving on,” he drolled, rolling his eyes. He looked back at Tel, the Wraith just watching the events, an amused grin on her muzzle, while her normally active tail was instead held up her spine. Daisy seemed stuck between a desire to interact with humans and not leaving her protector’s side—rocking back and forth nervously.
He motioned for them both to be involved, the grey-furred female pausing in her step to ensure that the Atmo followed. The additional care afforded to the Queen had him raising a brow, but he ignored it, choosing to ask her some other time. “You know Tel—more ‘contained chaos’ than person—but she’s every bit as important to me as the others.”
Rob nodded in greeting. “More so, I’d hope. Thank you for accompanying him back then, as well as taking care of him now.”
Tel bowed her head, opting to stay a step behind the Grand Hunter and speaking in a more subdued tone. “Your gratitude is unnecessary for one such as I. It is my duty to follow my Sheath.”
Joseph frowned. She had been more reticent since they had gone to... Well, since he went after Hasen. He wasn’t sure if she regretted some part of the night, or if it was just the wear from not sleeping making the servile display an easier default than her cockier persona. It also wasn’t impossible that she was acting more in line to support his authority, but that wasn’t what he wanted when talking to the last of his family.
Tel sighed in time with his thoughts, pouting as she draped herself over his shoulder.
“Yes, he has been nothing but trouble. Woe is me for suffering his tendencies to find harm, and my obligation to prevent it from being inflicted upon him.”
“Okay, not what I was thinking—“
“—You were getting anxious,” she cut him off flatly.
“No. Well, kind of, but—“
“—Need I remind you of what I am?”
He closed his mouth, unsure if her words were the threat of a lecture, or a promise to drag him somewhere more private...
Their stalemate was broken by Robert choking back laughter, the man forcing a fist to his mouth to stifle the noise. Noticing that his attempt to be subtle was less than successful, he held up his free hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just... God, I wonder what mom and dad would say if they could see you now.”
“I’m glad someone finds it amusing,” Joseph deadpanned, all too aware of the smirk growing on his face. Tel pushed off of him when Daisy stepped forward to be more involved, eased by the grey-furred female relaxing somewhat. He gestured to the yellow Queen. “Ah, right. This is Daisy—Violet’s sister, in a way. She’s here with Sunny. Daisy, this is Robert, my older brother.”
Rob blinked, tilting his head slightly as he stared at both of them with curiosity burning behind his eyes. “You speak Lilhun?”
The Grand Hunter raised a brow questioningly, replaying the line in his head. Sure enough, he switched languages when he went to address the young Atmo. “Huh. I mean, I learned a while ago, but I didn’t even notice using it that time. She’s not synced to English.”
“I thought you hated learning new languages.”
Joseph shrugged. “Needed to. Too many people I need to talk with. Can’t have the Heads kicking around me all the time.”
Still visually intrigued, his brother nodded, dropping the subject. Robert greeted Daisy, spreading his arms a bit to signify that he was welcoming of a hug, but the Atmo was more interested in staying near Tel than reciprocating Violet’s physically social nature. She returned a wave to be polite, regardless.
“The last two are staying back there for some reason,” the Grand Hunter mumbled, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. He looked back, seeing Harrow and Jax standing, but neither seeming to be in any hurry to inject themselves into the conversation without invitation. “Harrow, it’s just Rob. Don’t make me come over there.”
The orange-furred female’s ears flicked as she reluctantly left Jax behind to stand at Joseph’s side, her tail wrapping around his ankle. She looked...apologetic?
“Hey, Rob,” she opened hesitantly, gaze failing to match the man’s for very long before it fell back to the ground. The Martian smiled, speaking a little cheerier and cutting Joseph off before he could dig into why Harrow seemed so out of it.
“Hey, Harrow. I take it things worked out?”
The female blinked, her eyes locking with his until a small nod was returned, her relieved expression winning out over her reservation. A breath returned her energy, but the loss and recollection of the night before still hung on her words.
“Yeah. Thank you for listening.”
Rob waved it off. “Nonsense. Joe spent enough time singing your praises for me to help out. Everyone needs an ear at times. Keep it up, and maybe he’ll learn something without it being beaten over his head.”
“I’ll hurt you,” Joseph threatened, pausing to frown when he noticed not cutting Harrow off from a snarky quip. He raised a brow in worry. “You okay? Well, no, obviously, but...you okay?”
She nodded additional gratitude to Robert before patting Joseph on the back, switching to Lilhun. “Do you want me to offer our bed in front of other humans?”
“Not on the top of my list, no.”
A sardonic grin spread across her muzzle. “Figured I would save you the jokes.”
Her tone took the wind out of his sails. He knew that she was still recovering from everything; it takes a lot out of a person to air their past—especially when it’s as loaded as hers—right after the death of a loved one. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, offering one last exchange before they abandoned the semi-secretive language.
“If harassing me helps, then I say go nuts.”
“Even in front of Rob?”
“Hey, it’s my brother. I can live with a suggestive comment or two.”
Levity softened her expression. “Thanks, Joe.”
“No problem.” He squeezed her, then let her step aside, extending his other arm towards Jax as he addressed Robert in English. “Last of the original pains in my ass is this guy.”
“Hey.”
Joseph smirked, ignoring Harrow’s protest. There was probably a temptation to take him up on his offer to give Rob something to prod at him with, but he continued before she could get a word in. “Come here, big guy.”
Jax acquiesced, approaching the gathering. Instantly, the amiable atmosphere vanished, Robert’s face flattening as he glared at the taller male, while Harrow’s remorseful expression returned.
Ah, right. Bonded.
The Head of Security bowed his head. “Greetings, elder kin of Joseph.”
“You’re the one that scarred his face?” Rob asked blankly. Jax winced, but nodded.
“It is a great regret of mine.”
The martian pursed his lips, several responses visibly vying to be voiced. “You know, I really wanted to punch you. Still do, honestly. But no, I finally see the one who did that to him, and I need to be a responsible adult.”
Jax winced as Rob clenched his fist, fighting the urge to disregard professionalism. The black-furred male bowed his head, closing his eyes. “If my life is what may atone for the sins of my past, you may take it as you wish. Should such a pittance be suitable in its stead, I would gladly accept—”
A dull thud sounded out, the Head of Security stumbling to the side. Joseph’s eyes snapped back and forth between Jax and Robert, the latter shaking his hand, knuckles reddened from the punch across the former’s jaw. The Grand Hunter stuck out his arm to stop Harrow from getting involved, confusion and guilt battling on her face.
Rob’s eyes softened as his target waited for more with resignation, the Martian sighing.
“I’m kind of pissed off that it didn’t feel as cathartic as I was expecting.” He waited for a moment, shoulders sagging when Jax remained silent. “Nothing?”
“Is such sufficient?” the black-furred male asked hesitantly.
The flare of indignation died as quickly as it formed on Robert’s face, his mouth closing with an exhale. His eyes lowered in defeat. “You know, I don’t like what you did, and I don’t trust you because of it, but he trusts you, and I need to remember that he isn’t just my baby brother anymore… I was hoping that would feel right to do, but now I just feel like an asshole.”
Jax shook his head before he straightened his posture and gave an understanding nod. “I would wish as much for the sake of my own siblings. Though my initial actions were from the same place as your own, the Grand Hunter has taught me much through his forgiveness, and I am proud to call him kin. Were you to allow it, I believe the path towards acceptance is worth any charge, and a price such as this is simple to pay.”
Rob averted his eyes, sighing as he extended his hand. “Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t. That much, I do owe you. And…sorry for punching you.”
The black-furred male showed his surprise, smiling as he accepted the handshake. “Worry not, Joseph has gotten us rather used to it.”
“I’m sure he has, big guy.”
“What just happened?” Harrow whispered, conflicted in both tone and expression. Joseph cycled a slow breath.
“That is a good question,” he admitted, checking with the others to make sure no one was keen on causing a scene over it. The pack seemed to have based the severity of the issue on his own response, and given that he didn’t have much of one, neither did they—though a few were openly confused. He shrugged to convey that everything was fine, which proved to be enough for the spectators.
The most obvious reaction was Violet’s, a slow chitter pouring out quietly. The sound of her laughter—no matter how weak—eased a great deal of burden from his mind.
That being said, there was actually someone else who was much less subtle.
“Robert William Wright, what do you think you’re doing!?”
The trills and whistles worked into the words stunned Joseph, leaving him processing them before he even noticed the baby-blue feathers of the disgruntled Trilaxin march up to the Martian with nothing but determination to berate him. Robert’s eyes widened as he held up his palms in surrender.
“Sil, look—“
“Don’t you ‘look’ me!” she chirped, the considerably smaller avian making the human shrink as she jabbed a wing at him accusingly. “These are the people that have been by your brother’s side and helping him all this time, and you just have to swing at one!”
“I know, I just—“
“And a new species!” she continued, undeterred by his attempts to placate her. She snapped a wingtip towards Joseph. “He meets them, lives with them, works with them, considers them family, and your first instinct is to punch one!”
“When you put it like that...”
Silva huffed, the tone discordant. “Couldn’t you have at least waited until after you introduced me to embarrass yourself?”
“I like her,” Tel whispered, winking when Joseph gave her a doubtful look. Rob deflated, a wry smirk on his face as he held a hand towards the infuriated woman, hoping to defuse the ire directed at him.
“Joe, this is my fiancee and designated representative for the Trilaxin: Silva Herrin.”
Silva, smugly whistling a short note, turned towards the Grand Hunter, smiling brightly as if she didn’t just lecture Rob in front of everyone. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Joe.”
“Uh, you too,” he replied, struggling to catch up with the whiplash worth of tone shifts. He raised a hand. “If...this is done, can we move to my office? I’m going to need a moment to process...well, everything.”
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She at least had the presence of mind to note that her outburst caused an equally large display. Actually, likely more of one, considering the pack was pretty used to impromptu fights breaking out for short stints. They usually ended with both parties laughing and going back to what they were doing, so no one really minded; it was hard to be worked up over it once you get used to sparring being a common activity. Yelling? Less so.
“Y-yes, that’s fine” she trilled, staring at the ground now that her audience was more than a little amused by the show.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Joseph checked with the pack, most opting to return to work or just letting him have a fairly peaceful talk with his brother. Tel offered to stay back—if only to keep Daisy company—and Violet chose the same, citing her desire to help back at the den.
Leading the way with only his procession of Pan, Sil, Rob, and the few other humans who were more on edge than friendly, they walked back through the settlement, him taking a moment to view the Hall as they approached.
Mama never did get the chance to work on the outside, despite how much her and Atrox planned to do.
Entering, they were met with Faye—having changed back into her uniform since she returned from scouting—and the three moss-wolves sitting on their haunches, eyes focused on the new faces. The deep gold-furred female bowed in greeting, gesturing to the waiting area. “Your additional guests may use the provided room while the meeting is underway.”
“Boss?” one of them asked. Robert looked to the Grand Hunter for confirmation, receiving a hesitant shrug—the office could support the number, but he really just wanted it to be a more personal affair.
“Is it okay if I take Steve at least?” Rob sighed. “They’re technically not supposed to leave my side.”
“Fine by me,” Joseph agreed, glaring at the wolves when they growled at the unfamiliar people. They got the message, quieting down, but maintaining their stare. The Martian gave an impressed raise of his brows before turning to his escorts.
“How’s the radio?”
“Still green, sir.”
“Joe, do you think we could move the ship here? There’s room near the fires for us to settle in.”
Joseph took a breath. “Faye, could you or one of the girls get some drinks, please?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Thanks. We’ll talk about it in a second. Sound good?” he asked, gesturing down the hallway when he received a nod. “Okay, the office is this way and up the stairs.”
Though the visitors were surprised by the designs put on even the small framing around the windows, Joseph really took the time to admire the work. So much care and attention to detail was put into every inch of the space, and that only made the office more impressive once they entered. He lingered on the newest addition—the lithograph Mama left behind for him—with fresh grief. He had seen it earlier in the day, but with the finality of her funeral solidifying the loss, he simply viewed the monochromatic scene with a sad smile, taking a seat at his desk and gesturing for Rob and Sil to sit across from him. Pan stood by his side as per usual, while Steve chose a spot next to the door, unsure what to do with his hands when his fingers reached to rest around a gun that wasn’t there.
“Quite the place,” Robert commented, curious about the Lilhun religious imagery and the desk ornament. “What’s that?”
“Greymaw eye,” Joseph answered, running his thumb over Pan’s tail when it defaulted to wrapping around his wrist. “Think of a cross between a wood-chipper, a bear, and a death machine. Four arms, four legs, and one of these on top of something twice the size of Jax.”
His brother’s eyes shot wide as he patted the large black orb. “How the hell did you get your hands on that?”
“Killed it.”
“Who?”
“We did.”
“...With a gun?”
Joseph laughed, surprising the engaged pair still struggling to picture the beast that the item came from. “You know, I never actually stopped to consider how that sounded. No. Swords, bows, an axe, and two Atmo.”
Pan frowned at him. “It was you who dealt considerable wounds. The hunters confirmed that your contribution was critical.”
“You fought this thing?” Rob interjected, worry tinting his outburst. The Grand Hunter nodded, waving a hand to usher along the conversation.
“It was starting to close in on the settlement. Anyway, Sil, it’s nice to meet you in person. I wish I had a cleaner place to show you, but...”
“It’s fine,” she assured. “I’m happy to know you’re okay.”
“As much as I can be.”
The door opening got his attention, Raine entering with a tray of drinks. It was the usual variety offered when he was entertaining traders, with the added caveat of several teas instead of the singular cup. She placed them in front of Sil and Rob, offering the last two to Steve and himself. Smelling the steaming beverage, Joseph could see the curious glance between their cups and the Wraith.
“Peppermint,” he offered, taking a sip. “Lilhuns can’t smell or taste it, but it makes for some nice variety here.”
“That’s interesting,” Sil commented, seeming more curious about the biological implications than the drink she opted to let cool down.
“I just accept things at this point,” he admitted wryly. “As for the ship landing here, what did you have in mind?”
Robert placed his mug down, straightening in his seat, though staying relaxed. “We have another twelve Trilaxin on board, as well as ten humans. We have food, medical supplies, and whatever else the team could so much as hazard a guess at being useful. From what we saw in your...den? You could use the help.”
Joseph took a drink, swirling the liquid around as he thought about it, his gaze focusing on each example of the species in the room. “Any xenophobes?”
“Not that I would employ.”
“I don’t mean vocally racist bigots, Rob. I mean someone with a gun and even a chance of trying to use it on an Atmo or Lilhun. There’s no sugar-coating it, those insects are fucking terrifying until you get to know them. I won’t tolerate a ‘mistake,’ and there won’t be a second chance for anyone stupid enough to make one.”
His brother’s eyes widened, the cool tone and flat expression punctuating the seriousness of the statement. “What happened last night?”
“Last night I hunted down and killed the fuckers responsible for cutting my pack down by twenty members, and personally executed the worthless sack of shit who took Mama from me.”
“Joe...” Robert murmured, both sympathetic and concerned.
“Bone by bone, Rob. I broke him—Bone. By fucking. Bone—until I was sure he couldn’t feel anymore. Then I put a blade into his skull and watched the light behind his eyes blink out.” Joseph laid down his drink, lacing his fingers on the desk as his voice took on a frigid quality, Pan’s subtle growl building in her throat. “There is no ‘sorry’ anymore. I promised them I would do everything I could to protect them, and I will make an example of anyone who challenges that. I ask again: are there any individuals aboard your ship that would threaten my pack?”
Robert remained quiet, inspecting the Grand Hunter—and it was very much a Grand Hunter in front of him, Joseph’s piercing stare holding none of the indecision or hesitation that would weaken his authority. There were times when he had been unsure or unwilling to go the distance, but Hasen had ingrained the lesson deeply.
Nothing was worth more than the lives he was responsible for, and nothing would prevent him from removing whatever was acting against them.
The response came slowly, the Martian pained to see how far the planet had pushed the younger brother. “You’ve been through hell, haven’t you?”
“It hasn’t been easy, Rob,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “Assaults, explosives, injuries, deaths, predators hunting us during a storm... Yeah, a lot happened.”
Robert nodded, giving Silva a reassuring smile before turning back to him. “No one is going to make your job harder, Joe. I promise you that much. I can’t ever know how hard all of this has hit you, but we’re here to help with what the Union started.”
“And I don’t want our people to be at odds before we’ve even had the chance to properly speak,” Sil added, chirping hopefully. She still looked pretty off-kilter by the blatant threat, but Rob was doing a good job of supporting her.
Joseph mulled it over, checking with Raine before making any solid decision. The Wraith nodded in turn; the group in the building hadn’t said anything to make him question them, and Kaslin was keeping watch over the guards anyway.
Paranoid? Maybe, but he had learned that it paid to take the extra steps.
“Sounds good,” he affirmed, grabbing his tea. “Raine, can you ask the pack to clear out around the pyres? Let everyone know what’s happening so they can keep their distance for now.”
“As you wish, sir.”
The door clicked closed behind her, Joseph laying down the empty mug with a clack. “Don’t suppose you brought coffee or something? Haven’t had a chance to sleep.”
Robert perked up, welcoming an excuse to leave topics he was obviously reluctant to dig into. “Actually, I have something for you.”
The Grand Hunter raised a brow, his curiosity replaced by pure surprise when Rob reached into his blazer and pulled a tall can from an internal pocket, placing it on the desk with a familiar, metallic sound. The Martian sat back with a slightly strained smile.
“I thought you would appreciate this. I know this is kind of coming off a...more stressful topic, but...”
Joseph didn’t respond, grabbing the gift and turning it over in his hand, his fingers feeling the artistically embossed design. Pan watched closely, curious of both the item, and his mixed emotions. A tinny crack paired with the hiss of carbonation escaping the seal, the rim brought to his lips and the liquid washing over his tongue. He savoured the taste, bemusedly noting how damn sweet it was after so long without ready access to sugar. One long drink followed the first test, and he lowered it to admire the thing he used to see daily.
So many memories were attached to something so simple. He had ready access to it before he crashed here. Late shifts, long nights with friends, recovering from those same nights, and cracking them open just because it had become routine... All had long since become trademarks in his stories to the pack, and—even before then—stories he told in the cave. Stories that were listened to by two kind Atmo who wanted nothing more than to help someone, and the two who had become a centrepiece of his life since.
“You okay?” Rob asked quietly. Joseph glanced up, only now noticing the shimmer of tears. He wiped his eyes, a dry laugh escaping him as more wetness replaced what he removed.
“Yeah. Just thinking about how Mama would react. I spent a lot of time talking about this crap with her. She was so curious.” Pan wrapped him in a hug, her drooped ears and damp eyes contrasting how warm and soothing the comfort was. He put on a smile, playfully offering her the can. “Can you drink caffeine? I know Sil over there shouldn’t.”
The Trilaxin tilted her head. “I’m surprised you would know that.”
“Tried my luck with a few of you on the cruise,” he explained dryly, a sarcastic smirk spreading on his face. Silva accepted the answer, though rotated her head a few more times while she mulled over the assertion. It was amusing to see—if a bit uncomfortable.
“I’m not sure,” Pan answered, taking the can cautiously. It buckled in her grasp, earning a surprised expression and a more careful grip. She eventually settled on supporting it with both paws. “I do not recall seeing much of anything containing it.”
“Maybe we should ask Harrow or Sunny before we go drinking questionable things,” Joseph hedged with a sigh, humouring her desire to smell and play with the curiosity before returning it to him, her face showing how much she wanted to be included in the experience of his favourite foodstuff.
“We have a full testing suite on the ship,” Rob offered. “And enough of those to supply you for a year.”
“Why so much?”
The elder Wright smirked. “I figured you’d make it a religious right or something.”
“Very funny.”
“I try.”
A while passed as they talked about nothing in particular, flowing from one tangentially related topic and anecdote to the next. Silva started joining the conversation when it involved her, Rob pitching in while going over how they met and the process of their eventual engagement. Joseph and Pan smiled at the cheesy beginning, laughed when informed about the Trilaxin’s habit of jumping off high places, and just smiled warmly when they got to the proposal itself. It was a cute story, and Pan seemed more than willing to speak with the avian as time went on.
“What about you?” Robert asked, finishing his tea while Joseph slowly sipped at the nostalgically sweet energy drink.
“What about me? You know most everything from the calls.”
“Sil doesn’t,” he corrected, “and we both know you left out a lot for the sake of time.”
The Grand Hunter scratched at his neck. “It’s a long story.”
“Have somewhere to be? It’ll be a little bit yet until everyone else gets here.”
He glanced at Pan, receiving an encouraging smile. Accepting that there wasn’t much he could do to help at the base—and that everyone knew where to find him if there was—he took a breath, going over his time on the planet from the first moment he could still remember.
“So, I had just crashed here, bashed off the lock with one of my free-weights, and the first thing I saw was a tall, weird looking tree. Welp, I can’t say I was in the best state of mind, but all I wanted to do was climb it...”
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
“Leader?”
“I’m here,” Willin replied into the empty room, changing into clean clothes after bathing. It wasn’t much, but the facilities aboard the scout craft were at least serviceable, if not particularly pleasant. The speaker chimed out clearly as Comms continued.
“We have records of short-wave communications in use.”
He paused with his jacket, slowly slipping it on as he confirmed that he heard it right. “Origin?”
“Planet-side. Scans suggest the Human’s settlement.”
“That match the signature of the ship?”
The speaker went silent, absent of the hum Willin had gotten used to with the warp-spike interference. A moment passed. “Readings are consistent.”
He tossed on the rest of his clothing quickly, preemptively clipping the pistol from his bed to his hip before sighing. Unfortunately, the actual gun laid on his desk in a disassembled mess, the manual open on a terminal. He tossed the empty holster back on the surface before exiting the room—ignoring the further scattering of parts his careless actions caused—and leaving it to be a problem for later.
The short walk to the bridge led to the doors artificially hissing open to warn the occupants of a new addition, Nav greeting him as Comms waved him over. Tech was nowhere to be seen, but she was probably still resting. They had taken to keeping shifts during their prolonged stay on the outskirts of Grand Hunter Joseph’s territory, and the recent combat encouraged it. She was the one lucky enough to be on last moon.
“How much usage?”
The male brought up several graphs and readouts from his equipment, elaborating once Willin stared at him in disappointment for expecting him to understand any of it. “We have communications being relayed between several sources. Four are weaker than the fifth—implying weaker portable units, and a more powerful transmitter, which is likely the ship.”
“Scouts?”
“From whom?”
The dark green-furred male shook his head. “If they’re that close to him, then I would guess allies. That being said, there isn’t much use in pure speculation right now.”
Nav peeked over their station, eyebrows raised. “Leader, the distortion is gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone,” they confirmed, swinging the display outwards for him to see. Instead of a useless jumble of star charts and values, there was a coherent readout of where they were, where the planet was, and where...
“Incoming communication,” Comms announced urgently. “UM Electronic Warfare Frigate Smokeless Hunt is requesting.”
“Patch it through,” Willin ordered, walking to his terminals and dropping into the seat. His display flickered as the image of another bridge came onto the screen, the mild artifacts of compression clearing as the signal became properly established.
“Ah, STO Leader one-four-four-five. A pleasure,” a female greeted, smirking as she waited a moment or two for the connection to become stable. The insignia on her uniform sent both surprise and bureaucratic horror through him.
“First Claw, this low one offers his greetings,” he returned, bowing his head. Of all the people to respond to their request for aid, this wasn’t what he was expecting. A Provisional Claw, maybe, but one of the Eight?
This was either going to be a gift from the Hunt Mother, or a massive pain in his tail.
“Don’t sound too pleased to see me,” she quipped. Black silky fur barely contrasted the equally dark uniform clinging to her figure, gold trim that signified a level of importance glinted in the overhead lights—proving to be polished perfectly—and a straight posture befitting her position. She seemed tall for a female, though such was difficult to say for sure in such conditions. It was a toss-up for if she was a more affable or strict superior.
On the one paw, her language was casual, and she was disregarding the more superfluous regulations that were commonly ignored by those lower in rank. On the other paw, she took her appearance and duties seriously; if nothing else, the commanding and keen edge to her eyes demanded respect.
Either way, he didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of someone several levels above him in the hierarchy.
“I assure you, it is a great relief to know that you have destroyed the pilfered technology,” he hedged, opting to mix praise with truth.
“Destroyed?” she gasped dramatically, as if waiting specifically for that particular assumption. Her paw covered her snicker as the whimsical display was replaced by a cool confidence. “Nonsense. We have commandeered it flawlessly—though it took some finesse.”
He suppressed his reaction, gesturing for Nav and Comms to wake Tech. “Impressive, First Claw. I assume you are here to respond to our summons?”
She held the smug expression. “More than you expected, no? Don’t worry, we were the closest when the report was relayed.” She glanced away to another station, contemplation slowing her cadence. “Good thing, too. That was some nasty work they set up for you. I’m surprised you’re still alive and not buried into a smoking crater.”
“We have an excellent Technical Operations Officer.”
“STO Tech one-one-nine-three, yes,” she purred, pursing her lips as she scrolled through something. “Survived the terrorist attack that set off the war, subjected to more redacted procedures than even my clearance can view, then deposited to your care shortly after recovery and rehabilitation. Mute—though that seems to have been addressed with vocal modulation. A few other things here of note, though none you would be privy to...”
He nodded along, unsure where the curiosity was coming from. Thankfully, the Lilhun in question entered the room, foregoing her uniform or equipment for just casual wear and her mask.
“I’m here,” she announced, yawning the last word. She stopped to blink a few times when she noticed exactly who Willin was talking to, slowly extending two claws and rotating them towards the door. “I...should go change.”
The First Claw laughed lightly, waving a paw dismissively. “It’s fine. Your reports give us a pretty complete picture of your schedules; I won’t blame you for being half-asleep. Join us, this will involve you as well.”
Tech gave Willin a pleading glance, getting a subtle shake of the head from him. She exhaled, resigning to talking to the brass while wearing little more than whatever she retired in. “Cold room,” she hissed as she passed, earning a look of betrayal in return.
“You’re not in trouble,” the First Claw reiterated, nodding to an inaudible request elsewhere on her bridge. “What you are, is catching us up on the situation down there. It seems that you were in the process of reorganizing the information, so we’ll pretend that nothing but the basics exist here.”
Tech frowned, her eyes shooting to the side as she consulted her implants. Quickly, she brought up her console and started flicking through windows and files. “You’ve been through my system?”
“As my authority allows, yes,” the black-furred female agreed. “I suspect it would have been much more difficult if you were awake, but silencing the alerts was simple enough.”
“Anything they shouldn’t know about, Tech?” Willin asked sternly. He did not want to end up involved if she was up to something in her spare time that they didn’t want her doing; at least if he made it clear he was ignorant, then he would just be demoted, rather than whatever punishment they felt would be better suited.
“Nothing,” the First Claw interjected, sounding somewhat disappointed. “Usually, we find some personal journals about their ship-pack, or less-than-recommendable media, but all this one is guilty of is excessive time in various entertainment programs. Now, I would reprimand her for it, but—understandably enough—her time spent manning her station is actually higher than average by a fair margin.” The female dismissed the matter with a small shrug. “Here’s where I say that I don’t approve of it anyway, and recommend you discipline your subordinates.”
He waited for clarification or direction, but she simply stared with a smile and expectantly raised brows. “I...will do that the moment this communication is terminated, First Claw. I thank you for your leniency and deferring to my own judgment.”
The pleased expression brightened, a wink following after. “I trust that you will give her the lesson she deserves. Now! We have the protocol out of the way. Let’s discuss these reports.”
She proceeded to go over the more mundane affairs—number of current packs, estimated population, jurisdiction of various regions, and several clarifying questions regarding some of the things they were less sure of. Eventually she reached the parts of the report she was intentionally glossing over.
The First Claw’s expression darkened, the friendly tone abandoned and replaced by one Willin suspected helped get her so close to the top. “Next we have two items of note: your deal with Avalon, and the assertion that a member of the Union is currently in command over a portion of our people.”
Tech became increasingly interested in managing the free resources available—the warp-spike no longer pinning their system to its limit and allowing her to actually restore functionality to the otherwise unpowered sections. Now that she had a perfectly reasonable excuse not to get involved, he couldn’t really say anything about it. Worse, the First Claw not-so-subtly approved of the purple-furred female’s routine, so he couldn’t even hold that over her. It drew the desire to sigh, but he suppressed it in favour of a lingering hope that Tech would be merciful. She did offer a gesture for good luck, but nothing more.
When support from her was about as useful as he could have reasonably expected, he prepared himself for a long, long conversation with someone he really, really didn’t want to talk to.