-Gregor-

They had spent the few short weeks his son was home doing what they could to make him and their guest feel comfortable and welcome. He ran his own land management business, and Dianna was a for hire consultant. Taking the time off to be good hosts wasn't an issue.

For their guest, it was simple hospitality, but for the other...

He had not said anything to Conrad, but he had spoken with Master Silva as soon as he had received the first message after the attack and had been in steady contact with her since. As expected, she had known more than they had, and she had counselled them on what it meant for Conrad, and what to roughly expect with a Ruulothi house guest. But that was before they learned of the involvement of this Shadow Cabal, the Founders. Silva had not held back and gave them clear and concise information. She was of the mindset that forewarned was forearmed.

He knew that Conrad hadn't told them the full story so that they wouldn't worry, but it had still stung that he had omitted such important information. Not that they could have done anything about it anyway, and it had eventually come out when they arrived for their visit and were talking about what came next.

They knew that he meant well... he knew that. But in the end, he would rather be at least mentally prepared for the worst instead of being blindsided by it. And now... now they were going to be sending him out to be a target, again.

"No." He again had to stop to remind himself. "We are not sending him out. He is going of his own volition. He has willingly and knowingly chosen this path, and all the dangers it contains. Ruufarrl has openly coached and advised him on it, and Silva has spoken with him on the matter as well during his visits. To say otherwise would be doing his resolve a disservice...

He is as prepared as he could be."

He wasn't honestly sure which thought scared him more. The idea that someone out there wanted his son to disappear for surviving, or what else would result if they succeeded in removing him. Had it been simply a human or someone on planet he knew damn well what would happen on his end. He was a hard-bitten Scottish man, his wife was full blooded Irish, and they were fringe worlders. They weren't above exacting some Frontier Justice when other means failed. But this...

No matter how you looked at it, the circumstances were so grand that they were helpless. There was next to nothing they could do to affect the outcome when it came knocking, because it wouldn't be knocking at their door.

So, they made sure his son felt loved, and knew that home would always be safe for him. They made sure that his new Mentor was comfortable, had what he needed and was exposed to what Human Culture they could provide. It didn't feel like it was much, but it was what they could do to support him and make a mark.

With luck, it would make a difference.

He kept an eye on their guest after he had asked about the planet's Gravity. He hadn't noticed it until after the hunt, but the big alien was having a hard time with the extra gravity. He certainly didn't complain or make it obvious, but it was noticeable if you knew what to look for. Thanks to the ratio between their muscle densities and body size in relation to their home planet's gravities, Ruulothi and Human strength levels were roughly comparable, with Ruulothi tending towards the stronger end of the spectrum thanks to their size and frame. But that didn't mean that he would easily be able to withstand the constant added load from a heavier gravity world.

As the weeks wound down, he found their guest sitting and recovering more than he stood, but he never pushed himself to the point that he would have over exerted or needed medical care. During these recovery times they often watched more sports or historical documentaries or talked about the pair's next steps. He was certainly thankful for the insight that Ruufarrl provided from his own point of view and had come to trust that the Ruulothi was doing the best he could under the circumstances.

Regardless, Ruufarrl managed himself incredibly well given the planet's difficulties, a sign that he was no stranger to the pitfalls of interstellar travel. So Gregor decided to leave it be and not ask about his discomfort. He knew in some human cultures that asking about something that could be construed as a personal weakness was to give grave insult. Considering that the Ruulothi were prideful warriors, he felt that the caution was warranted.

Not that he worried about Ruufarrl acting out. The warrior would be perfectly at home in a monastery somewhere.

"...Do Ruulothi even have monasteries? I wonder if the idea is something that he would think interesting?"

"Hey, Ruufarrl..."

___________________________________________________________________________

The last day of their visit was surprisingly sedate as far as the beginnings of a journey go.

They had already packed and were ready to go, but their boarding was not until late that afternoon. So, they went over again on what extra items could be taken and what could not.

Dianna was particularly stumped, but not beaten. Food restrictions for travel were always an issue, doubly so for interstellar travel. She had wanted to send various items with them so that they could enjoy their trip but was forced to concede that her ideas simply weren't going to happen, as nuts, seeds, drinks and meat were not allowed.

That didn't stop her from setting up a selection of cooking sauces for Ruufarrl, dehydrated seedless fruit snacks for Conrad, and spices cleared as non-toxic for both.

Beyond that, their cargo load was simple essentials and work-related tools. Gregor, with Ruufarrl's acknowledgement, had given Conrad a small aerial video drone to record the ceremony and other parts of his trip. The drone could be paired with human wrist-links and came with a low-profile harness that could be worn over one shoulder so the drone could be kept on one's person, but out of the way and able to charge at the same time.

If nothing else, this would allow them to see Ruuloth Prime and his ceremony the next time he came home. Though Gregor suspected that his recordings may even eventually become something more than that, depending on what exactly was recorded. Which was really why he got it for him. "Better to hedge all of our bets. Never know when it might come in clutch, especially since I am pretty sure none of the Galactic aliens even know what it is. Ruufarrl gave it one hell of a curious inspection, and was doubly baffled when he found out they are basically toys."

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Once everything was packed and ready to go, they sat down to a big farewell lunch of Citrus Pulled Pork from the harvested Hellboar, fried herbal Stryka Root strips, garlic bread and Roka Cider. Finally, as a special going away gift for Ruufarrl in particular, a rack of seasoned bacon. As a special touch, all the meat was cooked with imported Maple Syrup.

They had lunch early enough that they could recover from it in time to make it completely through customs before they boarded.

Gregor and Dianna had insisted on taking them to the Shuttle Port. There was no need to pay for a taxi when they could offer a ride. The trip in went smoothly, and they got to see a local fair in the outskirts of Cormorant as they flew by. They explained it to Ruufarrl as a Festival with games, rides, various contests entertainments and food. Unfortunately, they did not have enough time to visit the event themselves when Ruufarrl expressed interest in it.

Ruufarrl gathered the expected attention as they walked through the Shuttle Terminal, this time a couple of tourists were brave enough to come over and ask for a picture. Ruufarrl was suspicious of their intent but allowed it. They had to explain after that, like with the drone they had given Conrad, travelling humans would often take as many pictures and videos as they could to relive their trip later. The more uncommon the scene they found, the more likely they were to try and record it in some manner, and it was a hallmark of humans that were visitors as opposed to natives. It was a facet of sentimentality that the majority of humanity shared, along with the many other uses of recordings.

Shortly after their random encounter with the tourists, they set up to say their final goodbyes at the entryway to the terminal.

Since the men and alien were too stoic to just open up and say it, Dianna stepped up and started, "Just remember that you will always have a place here at home, okay? No matter what happens, you can always come back."

"Mom, I'll be fine. But I will be sure to send messages and come back to visit, I just don't know yet when that will be."

"Well, when you find out, you let us know, okay?" Her expression darkened for a moment, "And don't go omitting details next time... alright?" Conrad froze out of habit at her tone and glare, "Y-yes ma'am."

Dianna's expression faded back to normal as she smiled, "Good. Mr. Ruufarrl, it has been both a pleasure and an honor. Thank you for everything you have done. You are always welcome here."

Ruufarrl gave her a soft smile and a gentle nod, "Thank you, for your hospitality and consideration. Though in truth, I have done little more than make a recommendation that was taken seriously." He looked up and around at the facility and out the large bay windows at the planet beyond.

"I do sincerely hope that some arrangement is made. Both of our species have much that can be taught to each other, and I think, perhaps, that we might be able to help you with your Hellboar problem. There is nothing that we like more than a good hunt." He gave a little wistful grin before shaking himself and returning to the moment, "But these are little more than dreams whispered to the winds at this point. All in due time."

Gregor nodded at this, "Time will tell, to be sure. Conrad, I know we can't do anything to help you beyond this point but listen up. 'Mu tha thu airson a bhith buan, na teid eadar an té ruadh agus a' chreag.'"

His son looked at him quizzically as he took a moment to change mental gears and translate for himself. He remembered the language quickly and went to speak, but a sharp pain suddenly flared in Gregor's ribs and the air flew out from his lungs. He saw Conrad's eyes go wide and he slowly stepped backwards, as though trying to avoid the attention of a wild animal.

"OW, what the..." He looked down to see his wife giving him an absolute death glare, "Excuse me, Mr. Mclaughlin?!" Her Irish accent was out in full, and that could only mean one thing.

He held his bruised ribs, took his own step back and held up a warding hand, "What was that for?"

"Don't you 'What was that for', me! You know exactly what that was for. Did you perhaps forget that I am Irish, and that I happen to know exactly what you just said?"

"It means..."

"I know what it means... both meanings." She continued to give him a hard stare down for a few more moments before changing tacks with a tone that brooked no argument, "You are taking me to dinner tonight... Santini's."

Gregor flinched and saw his son do the same, they both knew the cost, and knew the only viable option was surrender. "Yes, dear."

He turned to look at his son, but still kept his wife in his peripheral vision and hand on his side, "Just... Just be careful, bud. Alright? Keep your head on a swivel."

Conrad gave him a tired look, "‘Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine', Dad. We will be fine..." He waited and gave him a smirk when Dianna wasn't looking, "Better than you at any rate."

He glared at his son, then realized he was right and shook his head with a snort and a grim smile, "Any other day, boy. Safe travels to you both."

Goodbyes over, he turned back to his still fuming wife and began to desperately try and plot his way out of the mess he had just unwittingly dove headfirst into. "Heh, like father like son, I guess. But I think, between the two of us, he has a higher probability of coming back alive right now."

_______________________________________________________________________

-Conrad-

He waved goodbye to his parents as they left and chuckled to himself. "I am so glad we aren't going home with them."

Ruufarrl's deep voice rumbled out from behind him, "That was indeed strange... and amusing. What exactly was just said?"

"Ahh ahh, not here. I don't even want to be on the same planet as her when I explain that one. Not worth the risk. Let’s go get through the scanners, get your stuff and collect Kiiroth. We should have enough time to do that and find our terminal a little early."

They worked their way through the various security checkpoints and had their outgoing bags checked. Once everything was cleared, they showed the receipts for the stored property and Kiiroth's remains. On a whim, he decided to put on the harness and drone. If he was going to start recording his journey, he might as well have it ready to go. It wasn't as though there was any sort of rule against it either. He would just be another everyday tourist.

The process went in the reverse of what they had been through before. They picked up the long case while they waited for a loader to arrive and assist them with the containment unit that had Kiiroth's body. The Officer in Charge that day was a different person than the one that had been there before. He was a little less personable than the first Officer, but no less professional, and the guards worked in the same picture-perfect precision that they had before. He could tell that Ruufarrl appreciated the effort and attention to detail that they put in, and quietly recorded the process using his new drone. "Guess this can work both ways, and I should be thinking about that now that I am going to be the next best thing to an envoy. I can record for both myself and Ruufarrl. If nothing else, this is evidence of our professionalism and respect towards the dead."

They followed the loader to their shuttle, got their gear loaded and joined the other passengers for the flight up to the station. As they strapped themselves in Conrad noticed that the G-chairs used the same transformative nano-system that his families beds used. He suspected this made them better at absorbing the g-forces and making the passengers comfortable and less stressed.

He found out a few minutes later.

Though the shuttles glided in on light engine power, the trip out took everything the engines could muster, so much so that they even turned off all but the emergency lights and overhead terminal in the passenger section of the ship, leaving them in near darkness for their voyage. Even though the interior was layered in sound dampening materials, the pulse engines spooling up and firing still reverberated through the craft.

After a brief countdown on the terminal, everyone was slammed back into their seats, and remained squished there for almost the entire trip to space.

He had been right. These seats were nice.

The terminal continuously flashed the red message to stay buckled until cleared to move, even after reaching null gravity in orbit. It didn't flash the green clear light until all the lights were turned back on and they had completely docked. "Don't want anyone turning to mush if a sudden maneuver is needed. There are stories and articles, after all."

They disembarked the shuttle and used a grav-trolley to move their cargo around to their last destination, a large GalCom cargo hauler.

Ruufarrl couldn't wait anymore and pointed out the large window, "So, now that you can see the planet is safely over there, would you mind explaining?"

Even still, Conrad took a tentative look around himself and took a deep breath. "I suppose."

"What my father said, 'Mu tha thu airson a bhith buan, na teid eadar an té ruadh agus a' chreag,' is Gaelic. It's an old Earth language that is nearly gone. Spoken only by his people, and my mother's. Their ancestors lived on large islands that were practically touching one another, so they have some similar traits, and some superstitions about one another... some of which are well earned.

It has several meanings depending on the context. What he meant, for me, was 'To live a long life, don't tempt fate or court death.' He was basically telling me not to take unnecessary risks. What it literally translates to and means is what pissed mom off, cause it is in reference to her people. Mom is… a bit of an outlier among her people. Irish folk tend to have light skin and light hair, with a higher percentage of them than anywhere else having deep or bright red hair.

The phrase is also a warning against tempting a woman's wrath, and Irish women in general, whose personalities can be as fiery as their hair. Literally translated it means, 'If you wish to live a long life, don't go between the redheaded woman and the cliff.'"

Ruufarrl barked in drawn out laughter, drawing some sideways glances from those around them. After he finally got himself under control, he gave Conrad a tooth filled smile, "I see that such wisdom transcends the boundaries of time and space. We have a similar proverb, 'Don't pick at the maiden's feast,' for much the same reasons. The men fight and war, but the women rule the home, with iron fangs if need be."

He purred in amusement for a little longer. The ship was starting to board its passengers, so they gathered their things and headed over, "And what of the phrase you used?"

"Oh, that? 'Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine.'

It means, 'We live protected under each other's shadow.'"