Chapter 115: Checkup
Joseph sat against one of the support pillars in the medical tent, unsure how he felt about being asked to leave the room during Violet’s physical examination. Lacking much to do while he waited, he simply watched the others come and go as they visited whoever was recovering, or stood around waiting for those in surgery to come back.
The critically injured had been tended overnight. By morning, the triage had moved on to those without life-threatening wounds, as well as the Atmo. Doctor Rawks was—as claimed—a much kinder individual as soon as you put carapace in front of him; his temperament when dealing with Violet was a far cry from the cactus of a Trilaxin that Joseph had met the day prior.
Varr had spoken gently when it came time for the Queen of the settlement to be seen, explaining the procedure and every step he planned on taking up front, as well as why he needed to do it. It also worked to keep Joseph in the loop, since he was sitting in as both moral support, and as someone to make sure everything went well. He figured he could learn a thing or two to keep an eye out for while he was there, so he listened to the explanations closely while only sparingly bringing up what questions he had.
Once the general brief was given, they moved on to the actual examination. Doctor Rawks reiterated everything as he went, stopping occasionally to ask if she was fine or would like a moment’s rest between this and that. He metaphorically felt out her reactions while doing the same physically, noting differences between the textured shell and scales that striped the young insect. He spent some time on her different leg shape, as well as some smaller differences that were less obvious—though the Grand Hunter only heard gibberish that an assisting doctor agreed with.
After blood samples, some rather thorough collection of carapace samples, and more sensors and scans than he could ever reasonably be expected to name, Doctor Rawks asked the adoptive father if he would like to leave the room. When Joseph hesitantly furrowed his brow, he was informed that Pan could replace him, and that it wouldn’t be much longer before they could finish up, then he would have her back.
He somewhat regretted asking why.
The more intimate side of health checkups aside—and also shelving the queries about Atmo particulars that seemed to show up every now and then—he busied himself by listening in on various Lilhuns speaking to their pack and hexapedal friends, receiving clicks and answers in return. Most conversations were about how other checkups went, while some were passing the time while one member or another was tucked away on the ship where actual surgery could happen. Occasionally, someone would come ask how Violet was doing. They were pretty happy to hear that the doctors didn’t find anything wrong, and even offered to wait in his place, assuming he had something else to do. He refused, chuckling while explaining that he would rather be waiting than get distracted while working.
And work there was.
Recovery of the settlement was proceeding with surprising ease; the damage was mostly scorched ironwood and unintentional landscaping, so the less injured had started the process of cleanup. They had enough food in storage to last for a few days, which meant that they could take the time to relax and focus on bringing the dens back up to snuff. There were small gatherings of those sharing stories whenever the pack came across a den belonging to someone who passed—kind words and offers of comfort given to whoever shared the space—but they were resilient and powered through their mourning. There were even small gifts left within for those who had lost someone.
It reminded Joseph of his conversation with Sunny on the way back from her settlement, in a way. Dens weren’t just places to live for Lilhuns. A den was where you stayed with the people you loved—in every sense of the word, from close friends to romantic partners.
Admittedly, that spectrum blurred a fair bit with how physically open the species was, but the message was the same.
Your den was full of people you cared most about. Your family.
It drew a dry chuckle from him when he realized that his own interpretation of the term extended to the entirety of the settlement. From the Wraiths to Pan, and from the random security members to the carpenter couple that only recently marked one another.
Every loss stung, but he had already taken his revenge. There was nothing more to do but to help them recover as best he could. Right now, that meant waiting for his daughter to finish her physical, keep up with the results of whatever medical procedures were happening on the ship, and think on what to do about the United Military that hovered over the planet he had come to call home over the past year.
There was a lot of thinking to do.
Even assuming that they hadn’t bombed the place because of Sunny and Leader sticking out their necks for him, it still left a lot of ‘what if’ in the equation—a lot of ‘what if’ that he didn’t have the ability to deal with. It made him thankful for mundane activities like waiting for his daughter to finish her checkup. It felt more real to him than the absurdity his life had become.
...As long as he ignored that his daughter had proved just how lethal the blades attached to her wrists were.
His head thumped against the support beam as he closed his eyes.
It was a little late to worry about what lessons he was teaching her, huh?
“Mr. Wright?” one of the Trilaxin called, escorting Pan and Violet from the sectioned off space. He raised a hand to be seen through the crowd. He supposed being shorter than most occupants meant that it was hard to see him amongst the fur—especially when he was sat level with their stomachs. More so for the avians, considering even their tallest fell a bit short in the height department. Regardless, some of his pack recognized his attempt to be seen and waved the trio over.
He was met with a calm smile from his white-furred fiancee and a relaxed Violet, both signifying that nothing of worry had come up in the portion of the exam he missed. The Trilaxin chirped happily as she handed him a printout of the results—an odd choice of medium—but the information on it was mostly values and words that rivalled Lilhun script in their obtuseness. Some portions were highlighted green, which he asked about.
“Those are differences in hormonal production, carapace composition, and whatever else differentiated Violet from the other Atmo we have had the opportunity to look at. How much is due to her variant, and how much is specifically her, is hard to say until we compare it with other Queens, but this should give us a baseline for when we get the chance.”
Joseph nodded. That might have been a pretty abridged explanation, but at least he understood it. “Is that for better, or worse?”
“Better,” the doctor assured him. “Your little Violet here is more resilient to shell fractures, and should be much stronger than the more common Atmo once she’s all grown up. It’s pretty impressive, actually! Doctor Rawks is interested in studying them as a new sub-specialty, as well.”
He hummed his interest, regarding the report in his hand with curiosity. Everything else on the list was the same boring black and white he expected, so nothing looked out of place. He folded the paper up, reaching to place it in a jacket pocket that he didn’t have. The dissonance between old habits and where he was left him blinking. Slowly, he laughed to himself, settling for one of the pockets in his pants.
“Well, if he’s as good with them as he was with Violet, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind having a specialist around. They learn things quickly, too, so he could have Atmo nurses and doctors rising up from under him before he knows it.” Joseph shook his head in amusement at the thought, focusing back on the conversation as the other matter of interest around the tent came to mind. “Any word from the surgeries underway?”
“Jax will be out soon,” Pan provided, nodding to the Trilaxin. The doctor smiled, accepting the permission to leave. She thanked them for their time and cooperation before she left to tend to other patients.
Joseph pushed off his knees to get to his feet, reaching out and petting Violet. She leaned into his touch, chittering to herself in approval. He raised a brow lazily. “Huh. Violet’s grown a bit.”
His mate tilted her head. “She is young.”
“Yeah, I know. Just weird when I think about how big she’s going to get.” He shook his head, smirking at the thought of his daughter towering over him, but still being so affectionate. “Anyway, I didn’t think his leg was that bad.”
“It was fairly minor, all things considered,” she agreed, her attention taken by a playful argument elsewhere in the tent. She chuckled as she turned back to him. “Of those in need of the procedures, the most dire have been tended. Now it is just aiding those whose lives may be less burdened with the assistance. He is simply ensuring the wound is properly treated.”
The Grand Hunter sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”
Pan placed her paw to his crestfallen face, cupping his cheek. She dragged him down for a kiss. “I will pray they are successful with their venture, as I am sure you will.”
He cycled a breath, soaking in the caring confidence in her eyes before straightening his posture with a slow nod. “Sounds like a plan. Are we done here?”
Her eyes rolled slowly as she thought, eventually returning to him with a blink. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Good,” he declared, putting some energy back into his voice. “As patient as I am, I hate waiting. Let’s go do literally anything else.”
His fiancee laughed, covering her muzzle with her wrist as she led the way out. “Shall we try to convince Tel to be seen by the doctors?”
“...Almost anything else.”
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The vegetables were rinsed and placed aside to be cut, various meats chosen by volume they had in stock. Pots were cleaned and filled with water so that she could begin when the time came. With most of those that Tel had taught to cook being injured, she was fairly reliant on preparing the next meal much earlier than she was used to, but it wasn’t much of an inconvenience.
She certainly had time for it now.
With her Sheath accepting that his kin and those who accompanied him were safe, the pack had begun surrendering themselves to the examinations they offered. Once those were completed, the injured were much less reluctant to be seen, and surgeries were the next thing to follow.
Having their members disappear into the bowels of an alien ship was an understandably uncomfortable affair—they had suffered too many losses to be rid of the worries—but such concerns were eased by the Grand Hunter requesting the time to inspect the facilities that would be in use. Approval given, the first procedure was completed and returned the male that Harrow and Mama had cut open to mend.
Given their minimal medical capability at the time, they had to settle for removing what they could see. It meant that they had failed to fully aid him, but they did apparently buy him enough time to be treated properly. When the medical staff queried as to what equipment was used and were informed that none was, nothing but shock and respect was voiced for the one who performed the incisions.
Even after death, the Atmo was revered.
The grey-furred female wiped down her knife, glancing out of the windows in the kitchen to the fairly inactive pathways. Though few in number, members of the pack carried supplies to and fro, but a particular group caught Tel’s eye. Volta dragged along her team of volunteers to clean up whichever den or building would be needed next, Scarlet watching over the insect kits as she accompanied them.
The surveillance hadn’t been cancelled, though they did lessen the number of Wraiths due to necessity. Kaslin and Raine should be performing that task until Faye awoke and tended to her moss-wolves, then the rotation would begin anew. Truth be told, Scarlet should be sleeping as well, but the dark red-furred female politely requested to assist the Head cleaner in lieu of rest. Perhaps it was not the wisest of choices, but with none of the aliens itching at her through her bond, permission was given.
That wasn’t to say that nothing was calling for her vigilance, but those that drew such reactions were beyond her reach. She could not quell the unrest of her Sheath, and it made her feel woefully inadequate. She was supposed to be that which removed whatever caused his discomfort. Whoever caused it. Yet her utility was limited, then restricted further.
She eyed the vial of blood she had taken, partly giving in to the small wish of her mate. Her bond, she supposed, though there was hardly any use in denying that which had proven itself.
She was no stranger to examinations—Avalon demanded them frequently—but it had been some time since it had been required of her, and submitting to them once more felt like a regression. A foolish thought, true, but she had found her Sheath, and falling back into old ways would bring nothing but unpleasant memories of moons spent wondering when she would surpass her predecessor.
If she ever would.
The sterile, uncaring touch. The judgment. The medications and injections that left her shaking and hazy. All would be given with little concern for the weapon, for no will was to be expected from such. Perhaps as a Blade she would do so without qualm, yet as a Wraith... As his...
Her male wished her more than a weapon, and she wanted nothing more than to meet his expectations. With the desperation to supersede her blood-mother sated, all that was left was to be that which he desired of her, and such a fickle boundary such as whose touch she allowed was all she held.
Folly it may be, but it was the first request asked of her, back when she suggested pursuing other males on their way to meet Grand Hunter Trill. Perhaps she had suggested it as merely a way to stoke the possessiveness she sought from her male, but he had made it quite clear that he wished to be the only one who saw her bare form. Trivial, considering how long it had been, and the circumstances at paw, yet she wished it obliged all the same.
Her sigh pulled her away from her endless ruminations in time to barely hear a faint footstep. The edges of her fur felt the brush of someone reaching from behind her. She acted without thinking.
The knife flipped to a reverse grip. She buckled, bringing her tail in as she spun on her pad and reached out with her free paw. Clothing was gripped, pulled, then pushed into the counter, her blade brought to the throat of whoever disturbed her. A paw enclosing her own stopped the knife.
“It’s me,” Joseph stated calmly, relaxing the strength in his grip when she loosened the tension. Her ears lowered as she scowled at him in disapproval; he knew not to approach her like that. Her male smiled, concern tinting his voice. “I called out, but you were off in space. Something on your mind?”
Tel exhaled forcefully to express her displeasure. “Much, as always. I have warned you against sneaking up on me.”
He smirked, the warmth in his gaze melting what frigidness she attempted to display. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be so easy to do it to.”
Her tail flicked, ears perking forward as she leaned in, her voice lowering to its familiar sultry tone. “Oh? Is that a challenge?”
“No, not—“
The Wraith placed the knife on the counter behind him, bringing a claw to his lips and her muzzle against his neck. She breathed her words into his ear, letting a fraction of the heat she had been suppressing leak out.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“My male wishes to test me? After all the carnage we wrought, you think I have not yearned? That I have not sought escape through your touch?”
“Tel, we really should save this for later,” he mumbled around the obstruction. Her giggle poured as she scented his body’s approval to her touch. She caressed his face, dragging the tips of her claws lightly down his throat while her other paw gripped his hip. Her tail wandered up his leg, teasingly coiling and brushing across his thighs.
The contemplative hum came out as more of a moan, her tongue already remembering the texture of his skin. The taste of his blood as she marked him.
His voice beneath her, and how much control she had over it. How she gave herself to him in the way he did to her, when death was demanded. That moon when colours faded, thoughts became unrequired, and naught but his will guided her claws.
It burned within her, scorching her very core with molten need. An inferno untended, yet begging to be sated, neglected and wanting.
“Need I remind you that nothing can save you from me?” she whispered, his pheromones flooding her senses as she teased the flesh of his neck with her teeth. A shiver rolled down his form.
“Company’s coming,” he protested quietly. Her paw shot out to grab the discarded blade, but his own caught her wrist. “We’re good, I mean Rob is stopping by here. Just...time and place, okay?”
She parted, tipping an ear back before turning her head to follow. Pan stood wide-eyed, her cheeks flushed enough to tint the white of her fur as she stared. Robert stood in the doorway a moment later, glancing between the Paw and the Wraith, his brows raised.
“Should I come back, or...?”
“You’re fine,” Joseph assured him, stunning Tel with a kiss before parting. “Just asking Tel how everything was going.”
“You’ve been either with me or dealing with...events around the settlement. Even now, you’re being so responsible. My baby brother is all grown up.” The elder kin faked a sniffle, smirking at the Grand Hunter’s rolled eyes before nodding towards the grey-furred female. “I never got the chance to really talk with you yesterday. Joe said you’d be doing up food for the pack, so I figured it’d be a good enough time to properly say hello.”
Tel considered her response, pushing down the desire to take her mate as she dealt with his sibling. She grabbed her knife and suppressed the displeasure in her expression, settling her needs with careful breaths as she fetched a bowl. “We have all been occupied by one thing or another. Such is the life we lead under his guidance, elder kin. Did you require something of me?”
Robert grinned, despite the brusque greeting. “Well, I suppose I just wanted to talk to my brother’s other wife. Not every day I get the chance.”
“Not married,” Joseph corrected.
“Yet.”
The Grand Hunter shrugged. “I guess I could get Sorren to officiate—given that he’s a priest and all—but Lilhuns don’t really do marriage as a concept, so I’m not sure if the procedure translates.”
“Yeah, that might be complicated,” his brother agreed, scratching his jaw. Pan tilted her head in a more open display of Joseph’s curiosity, but her eyes kept flickering to Tel. The Wraith had a few guesses as to why, but the conversation continued regardless.
“Figured I’d ask while I’m here,” their mate sighed. “Tel, do you want to get checked out? The more information we have, the better.”
“I will politely decline,” she responded quickly, placing some of her vegetables on the cutting board and beginning to dice them. Soft clacks of the knife became a distraction.
“Our lead researcher dealing with Lilhuns is a woman, if that’s the issue,” Robert offered. “She’d be happy for the chance, and I can promise you that she’s treated everyone with nothing but respect.”
“And if I simply wished not to be at the touch of another?”
“I’m surprised you’d care,” Joseph questioned, more than stated. The grey-furred female slid the cubes on the board into the bowl, grabbing the next item to be prepared without addressing the curiosity.
“Is that a task you have for me?”
“Well, no. I’m not forcing you to get checked out if you’d rather not. You have every right to say no.”
She smiled. “Then I will use such a right to save the touch of my flesh for my mates.”
Pan raised a hesitant paw, earning two looks of interest from the males. “If I may, perhaps it would be possible for me to examine her? I would be happy to be of help, assuming she would allow it.”
Joseph and Robert turned their attention to Tel, both wearing expressions of intrigue at the offer—though she suspected for different reasons. She mused the premise, eventually nodding her assent. “It would be preferable if there was a way to do such outside the confines of the tent you have erected, however.”
“Then,” the older sibling drawled, considering the assertion. He tilted his head in thought. “I guess we can spare some of the equipment. Operating it is a different question, but it should be pretty ‘set and forget’ while they log the data—nothing invasive, promise. All the data is anonymized, unless otherwise requested. I’ll talk to the crew and see what we’d like to have, versus what we can lend out. Should be pretty much everything, so I’d say I’ll have to ask Harrow to transcribe any instructions.”
“How is Harrow?” Joseph asked, his gaze lingering on the Wraith before following the conversation.
“Good. We offered to do her scans, but she said she wanted to wait until everyone else was seen. Part of the reason I asked Tel today, actually. I don’t want to put words in her mouth, but I’d understand if she’s worried about getting anything but the best news, so I’m with her on having as many points of reference as possible. Nothing would ruin things more than if we were running with shoddy data.”
The Grand Hunter frowned. “She should get checked.”
Tel perked an ear. “Is there something about her condition making it a pressing matter?”
The brothers exchanged a glance, the younger of the two wearing a hesitant expression. “Define ‘condition.’”
The Wraith smirked. “I know not, but it seems my prodding has found she indeed has one of note.”
A firm palm halted her gloating. “Her place to talk about, not mine.”
The refusal of her progress into the new interesting matter drew a sigh as she finished with her preliminary preparations for their later meal. “So be it.”
“Anyway,” Robert deflected. “Putting aside a full physical for now, would it be possible to get a blood sample? We need to compare as many as we can.”
She put the knife away to be cleaned, placing the bowl in the refrigeration unit after. She eyed the male, shifting her focus to her mate. When he shrugged to leave the decision to her, she nodded, making sure he knew that her threat from earlier was still very much active. A paw slipped into her shirt, a claw hooking a vial and offering it to the male. His surprised expression turned to a questioning one, to which she pulled a needle and spare vial from her pocket, a sly grin crossing her muzzle.
“It would behoove you to increase your ship’s security. Though, if one such as I could not perform such a trivial task, then I would hardly be worth my titles, no?”
Robert accepted the blood, shaking his head with a smile. “No wonder Joe was surprisingly fine with surgeries taking place on the ship. He’s been overprotective this whole time, so I should have guessed something like this.”
“I’m not that bad,” Joseph protested with a pout.
“You’re worse than mom was, but she didn’t have assassins.”
“I think my childhood would have been much shorter if she did.”
“Or much longer.”
The flat stare and whimsical exchange drew a chuckle from the Wraith. “Be that as it may, I have precious little time before I must prepare the pack’s meal in full. I will take the opportunity to rest in our room.”
The group wished her well as she left, moving the conversation along to other topics. She pushed down her desires revolving around her mate and asked herself why Pan had become an exception to the very rule she pointlessly held onto.
Perhaps it should be vexing to know the answer without pause, but all it did was give her a small smirk.
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“How’s the proximity sensor?” Willin asked, stepping over a protruding root in the forest on their way to Trill’s settlement. Tech blinked, snapping from her thoughts before her eyes wandered from tree to tree.
“About the same as last time, but at least the readouts are stable,” she admitted with a shrug. “It was like things kept disappearing before; they’d appear somewhere, only to reappear somewhere else. It’s not much better—with the wildlife being as it is—but at least I don’t feel like I'm losing my mind.”
He nodded, accepting the answer. She had been weirdly quiet since the First Claw got in contact with them, though he supposed a good portion of that was due to her system being hacked in the first place. For someone who lived her life so intertwined with technology—and by extension, her ship—it was a small wonder why the decision to disregard her connection with the systems there would feel almost violating. Mix in his own pressure into her well-being once he was aware how oblivious he had been to her health, and he couldn’t quite fault her for not wanting to speak as much.
It didn’t explain why she had become even less vocal since they had stopped by Grand Hunter Joseph’s settlement to fetch Sunundra, but he didn’t want to strain what goodwill they still had between them. Comms and Nav were friends of his, sure, but neither were really specialized in areas that allowed them to traverse the landscape with him. They were ship-specialized crew unsuited for the planet, as well as who they were on their way to meet again.
They approached the settlement fairly quickly, now that Tech’s sensors weren’t causing them to be overly cautious. Knowing that Blades were keeping surveillance over them was somehow more comforting than the ambiguous presence of Wraiths they had been exposed to. Turns and flicks of the purple-furred female’s ears followed what Willin guessed to be those who were less skilled at avoiding the scans.
At least they knew when they were being watched here.
It was when they approached the boundaries that something seemed off. The welcome was as terse as before, but they were told to remain where they were without explanation as to why. To wait for a guide, perhaps, but none seemed particularly forthcoming, leaving them without much to do until someone eventually arrived.
“So, what do you think the plan is?” Willin asked, leaning against an unoccupied building when it seemed they would be left unattended for some time. The pack had elected to give them a wide berth, leaving plenty of room for quiet conversation.
Tech glanced at him, suspending her search of the otherwise arbitrary points of interest. “Regarding?”
“The—” He stopped himself, nodded politely towards a servant who seemed curious about them before the observer was ushered along by someone else. He let a moment pass until they were outside of earshot again, turning his head back towards his other. “The agreements, Sunundra’s pack, Joseph. All of it.”
“Can’t say I’ve thought about it much,” she admitted lazily, her paw resting on the plasma-caster on her hip.
“No?”
“Not much to think about, Leader. Command will do as they see fit, regardless of how we feel about it.”
Willin sighed, noting the bitterness in her voice. “Such is the life of a soldier.”
“Indeed.”
Quiet filled the gap in conversation, the ambient noise of the settlement just barely loud enough to stop him from hearing his own heartbeat. He averted his eyes from the female, feigning interest in random places. “Are you feeling well?”
Tech regarded him out of the corner of her eye. “The warp-spike has shifted frequency away from interfering with my augments.”
“I meant in general.”
The female crossed her arms, swivelling her head to scan the area before settling on him. “Why do you ask?”
He mulled over his response for a moment. “You’ve been quiet. Just wondering if something was on your mind.”
“I’m fine,” she returned, softening her tone. “I am not pleased to be used as a communication relay, but such is the circumstance.”
The dark green-furred male nodded. “I’m not excited to tell ‘The Weighted Scale’ that the UM has taken issue with his contract either, yet here we are.”
“And what issue might that be, low ones?” a deep, gravelly voice asked politely, the chipper lilt at odds with the threatening undertone.
Willin shoved off the building and spun on his pads, fighting back the urge to draw his weapon as Tech’s ears flattened at the presence. Grand Hunter Trill stood before them, smiling amiably while holding a corpse limply by the neck, their limbs dragging on the ground. From the injuries sustained, it was not a quick death.
The grey-furred male noticed their gazes, his eyes widening in mock surprise as he chucked. “Ah yes, my apologies. I was tending to some other affairs when I received word of your arrival. This is all very uncouth of me. Here.” He tossed the body aside to be caught by a Blade dropping from above. Trill turned his smiling muzzle back to them as the deceased was carried away. “Much better, no?”
The two soldiers stood tensely, Willin clearing his throat. “Yes, of course, Grand Hunter.”
“Good,” the Blademaster affirmed brightly. “Now, there was talk of my contract being…insufficient?”
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“Do come in,” Grand Hunter Trill called, his torn ear pivoting back towards them as they did as requested. Even though it was a regular occurrence, Willin still felt naked without his weapons. The only comfort he gained was at least knowing the layout of the Atmospheric Entry Craft that the settlement used as its centre—and the Grand Hunter’s den.
He never did learn where the solar panels routed their power to, but he had much more pressing matters on his mind at the moment.
Trill gestured towards the seats across from his desk, sitting himself down and preparing a few things on the surface before producing papers from a drawer. Once the two soldiers were seated, he leafed through the stack and pulled out a few, placing them on the table and stowing away the remainder.
“Seeing as you've returned so reluctantly, I take it that the military has arrived?”
Tech deferred to Willin for a response—something he was thankful for, given the circumstances. He wasn’t excited that their reasoning was seen through quite so clearly, but he couldn’t quite blame their open conversation either. If it was their fault for showing their paws too easily, he supposed there was worse that they could have revealed.
The dark green-furred male nodded. “A hunt-class frigate and a colony ship have received our summons and are awaiting outside of orbit.”
Trill hummed, spinning his chair and getting up to peruse a filing cabinet. The drawers slid open and closed until he found what he was looking for, several more papers joining the others on the desk as he sat down again. “I see. Have you informed them of our agreement?”
“Yes, Grand Hunter.”
He gathered some of the documents, tapping them flat and laying them down in orderly fashion before resting his paws above them. “And I assume the issues they have pertain to something they feel is unfair?”
Willin tensed at the professional tone slipping further and further away from the mask of a merchant, and closer to the cold tone the male took as the Blademaster of Avalon. “There have been noted inconsistencies within the language regarding specifics of the contract.”
Trill’s brows rose in interest. “Oh? Which specifics may be the issue?”
Tech looked for permission to speak, taking out her physical copy of the document when prompted. “Section forty-seven, article eight, subsection three.”
The Grand Hunter pulled out a few papers—presumably his copy of the contract—and flipped through them, dragging his claw down the text and humming when it stopped.
“Ah, yes. I see the problem,” he stated cheerily. His paw dropped the stack on the desk. His voice firmed, a piercing stare accompanying it. “You believe that which has been signed can be changed.”
Willin’s fur stood on end as the male’s friendly demeanour vanished, replaced by a cold stare of disapproval. The dark green-furred male raised a paw politely, taking the shift in attention as permission to speak. “With all due respect, Grand Hunter, what they seek is an addendum.”
The male eyed the soldiers cautiously, a smirk growing on his muzzle. Trill leaned forward in the chair. “And who will be doing such a thing? You? No, no. You’ve agreed to this. Signed it.”
A slight static from Tech accompanied surprised eyes, her voice modulator shifting from her usual voice to one of the First Claw. “That would be me, Grand Hunter. Or should I greet you as the Blademaster of Avalon?”
If the grey-furred male was surprised, he didn’t show it, lazily turning his gaze towards Tech and then the mask she wore. “Oh? Someone of station, I presume? How kind of you to join us without an invitation.”
“Rey’zel,” the female introduced herself, ignoring the sarcasm.. “First Claw of the United Military, and the one who will be speaking with you about the addendum required.”
Trill leaned back in his chair. “You wish to meet with me?”
“Merely discuss the amendments to some terms that would be rather easily abused, Blademaster.”
His eyes narrowed, a smug smirk growing after a moment’s silence. “If it is a discussion you seek, then it is a meeting you must have, new one.”
“Is my presence in such fashion insufficient?”
“Quite,” the male chuckled, producing a quill from his fur and twirling it between his claws. He looked to the ceiling casually. “Your subordinates came in person—through much less understanding times, no less—yet you seek my time without so much as the colour of your fur known to me. Now that, First Claw, is insufficient.”
He flicked his paw, the quill disappearing during the motion. “You have several like myself to meet with, no? Would it not be pertinent to consolidate such a tedious arrangement to coincide? Put faces to names and tones to intentions?”
The female audibly inhaled, pausing for a moment before carefully answering. “What is it you seek to gain, Blademaster?”
“What of yourself? My terms are fair; the empire of blood and claw I have crafted will not seek your end without cause, we will be available for hire, and we will assist where we are able for reasonable recompense as you establish yourself here. You have arranged for a mutually beneficial neighbour in an unwelcoming world, have you not?”
“It is what comes after we are established that we wish to address.”
“Then you will need to speak with me in person to discuss.”
A hint of irritation tinted her voice. “And of your suggestion regarding the supposed others?”
The Blademaster smiled. “You are not the only neighbours I expect to have, First Claw. See to it that I may have the opportunity to meet with them as well, and I will be amiable for further deliberation. That would benefit us both, no? You may speak with those who you must and prove your honest intentions, and I might secure more agreements.” He gestured towards the door. “If you would excuse me, I believe that we have nothing more to discuss at this moment, and you have a decision to make. I will provide ample time to decide which you wish more.”
“Until next time, Blademaster,” she replied tersely, ending the connection. Tech’s grumbling became audible as she gained control of her modulator again, confirming that the conversation was indeed over with a string of profanities. She blinked, having the sense to at least look apologetic for the muttered cursing.
Thankfully, the Grand Hunter either didn’t care, or silently agreed with the sentiments voiced. Taking the lack of address as their cue to leave, Willin nodded to Tech, both wearily getting up. Trill’s voice stopped them at the door.
“You, the purple-furred one.”
“Tech, Grand Hunter,” she clarified as politely as she could. Given her short temper with everything happening, it was a pretty respectable effort. The grey-furred male waved it off.
“Yes, yes. Tech. Has he asked his favour of you yet?”
“...No, Grand Hunter.”
Trill hummed thoughtfully, nodding to himself slowly. “Then we shall see what he seeks soon. You may leave. I pray the rest of the sun treats you well, you two, because your masters seem not to.”
The door closed behind them, their weapons returned, and their escort guided them back to the edge of the settlement. Standing with the trees before them, Tech broke the long silence.
“Hey, Leader?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did he ask for me, instead of you? It feels like he’s up to something.”
Willin raised a brow. “Considering his Aspect, I thought that was expected.”
“Yeah, but...”
“I don’t know, Tech,” he sighed. “Being led around is starting to feel routine. Why?”
She paused, shaking her head and walking on without him. “Nothing. Come on, we need to let the others know that we’ll be waiting here until the First Claw sorts out what she wants to do.”
Willin watched her leave, wondering what was going through her head recently. Whatever it was, he hoped she would tell him soon.
Tech’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hurry up!”
He gave one last glance to the settlement before jogging after her. There were a lot of things in motion, and it felt like they were the only ones who didn’t know what.