-Conrad-

"Ah... Shit."

Conrad looked at the little creature in utter shock. He could feel Ruufarrl's questioning gaze boring into him from the side, but the gears of his mind had ground to a halt.

"What in the hell?"

Unable to come up with an explanation, and needing to have an answer, he fell back on what any child at home would do.

"HEY DAD! Can you come here for a minute?"

There was a brief answer that was muffled by the walls of the house, but then he heard his father's footsteps on the staircase. A few moments later and he stood in the doorway behind them.

"What's up? Is there something that we mi... OH! Solais That's where you went!" Conrad's shock became complete as he heard his father start cooing at the cat to calm it down, a sound he had never once heard come out of his mouth. But instead of continuing his lock-up, it shook him out of it.

"Dad, I thought that Terran creatures outside of approved farm animals were banned after the Rogers Incident. Where did you get a cat from?"

His father got close enough to gently pet the cat, drawing its attention away from the intruders in its space before looking back at him. Solais arched up into his hand and gave a satisfied rowl as he pressed into his father's hand for chin scratches. "Oh, right, you were gone when that changed, I think it was... eight months ago now? The Planetary Senate reversed the decision, so long as all exo-pets are chipped for location data, identification and are rendered incapable of breeding outside of highly monitored and regulated breeding specialists."

He had picked the now affectionate cat up and it was purring contentedly in his arms. "To be honest I wanted a dog, but there is a four to five year wait list for them unless we want to spend an arm and a leg to ship one out ourselves from a recognized breeder. Diana got lucky and found this little guy who had slipped through the cracks of the system and brought him home that day." He sighed for a moment and stopped petting the cat to adjust his arms. It responded by head butting his hand to provoke more pets and he chuckled. "Little bugger won't leave me alone when I am home. He has apparently decided that I am his."

His father then looked up wide eyed when he heard Ruufarrl chuff in amusement at his last statement, realizing the other potential problem. "Ah, my apologies for not warning either of you. He's been with us for so long I forgot to consider it as a potential sticking point. Mr. Ruufarrl, I suppose an explanation is in order."

"I believe I understand enough from my own observations and the conversation, but if you wish to elaborate, I won't stop you. Learning more would go far in providing context and preventing misunderstandings. I am not one of the pretentious fools that your people had met before. Keeping domesticated creatures is not a feature unique to humans, even amongst ourselves, and we Ruulothi have already been acquainted with the idea of analogues from your home world... Lions I believe they were? I assume that this one is a smaller variety of the same?"

Solais had stopped purring and stared balefully at Ruufarrl when he talked, but he did not become aggressive again. Conrad took the opportunity to fill in some information now that he wasn't brain locked.

"Yes and no. They are from the same genus, or family of creatures. There are a large number of cat varieties back on earth. Many species of large cat like lions, tigers, jaguar and leopards are known to be man-eaters and live out in the wilds and deeper reaches. There are a greater number of what we call "Small cats" that also live in the wilds, but some of them, like snow leopards, mountain lions and cheetahs are nearly as big as the large cats, so the name is a little misleading. Umm, here. I can show you."

Conrad went to the room's terminal and turned it on. A few moments later and he had images of the creatures he had named up on screen. Ruufarrl leaned in with interest as Conrad continued to explain.

________________________________________________________________

-Ruufarrl-

"Protection, companionship, serenity, vermin control." He thought. In the end, the reasons that most humans kept the pets that they did was at least one of these. He was surprised to find that the majority of pets were predator species. This was different from other GalCom races that he had seen. Most of those that kept non-sentient animals in their homes strictly kept creatures that didn't remind them of something that could hurt them, or that was actively capable of doing such. Though the damage that could be done was often minimal, such as in the case of cats or smaller creatures like rodents and weasels. In others, such as with dogs, venomous animals and larger creatures like horses, they were fully capable of killing the hands that fed them.

Humans were certainly a different breed. Conrad had taken him through the bewildering overgrown forest that was human pets. After the many varieties of cats and their cousins he moved on to dogs and their wild relatives, wolves. To Ruufarrl these dogs seemed to fill a similar role among humans as Verkar lizards did for Ruulothi. From dogs they moved to other, smaller creatures, usually kept for children. Then to fish, insects, reptiles and amphibians, and then birds. Somehow, the human's ability to adapt themselves to an environment seemed to extend to creating a safe habitable environment for their companion creatures as well. For each different type of creature they discussed Conrad would show him the aggressive wild variants and how they hunted. Sharks and the large aquatic reptiles called alligators and crocodiles had held his attention for some time. Both of these creatures had similar analogues not only on his own home planet, but on others as well. He found it most interesting to compare the species and their habits. In either case they were ancient species that had withstood the test of time with little change, both on Earth and in the other places that Ruufarrl knew their counterparts to exist. Whether in a confluence of nature, or simply by victory of the evolutionary lottery, these two species in particular would be easily recognizable to many of GalCom's member species.

Ruufarrl was particularly interested by the concept of hunting dogs and the rare, but still practiced, tradition of hunting with hawks and eagles, and was equally intrigued when he found out that humans sometimes trained their pet animals for war and policing. Though this was usually dogs as cats were too independent to be properly trained. A fact that had given him great amusement. "Not so different with our appearances or our pride, are we?"

Hunting and fighting with animals was an idea that he did not believe had been considered among his own people. War and hunting was for warriors and hunters, not trained pets. Despite this ingrained belief, he could see the benefit of such things, especially for a race that wasn't as readily built for lethal combat as the humans and needed every advantage they could get.

After aiding in the explanations for a bit, Greg departed to help his mate in other activities and had taken the now disinterested Solais with him. They continued to go over the various creatures from Earth that Humanity used, from pets to farm and labor animals. They had just moved on to the local animals of Nueva Rios that were under consideration for domestication when they were called for lunch.

Lunch was an interesting experience for him, his first truly human meal. Diana had thoughtfully kept the component parts of what she called "chicken fajitas" separate from one another so that each could build their... edible wrapping as they saw fit. She had even thought to make a separate batch with no seasonings and provide him with a list of ingredients, just in case.

He saw nothing wrong with the parts of the whole, so tried it as intended. Though he did omit the cheese after warnings of it being partially incompatible with their own cats. He saw no reason to test the Hunt Winds. All told it stood in exception to what he had become used to. The seasonings were bright, but not too powerful. The meat... was something different. He knew what a chicken was, thanks to his earlier research with Conrad, but did not expect this. It was pleasant and light with none of the grease, aftertaste or stringy-ness common to other types of meat he had eaten. It combined very well with the sauce and other ingredients, and he suspected it could be prepared a number of different ways due to its properties. It was something he would be happy to have again.

After lunch was over and picked up Greg took Ruufarrl to their entertaining room to give him the "Human Experience" in a way that he thought might appeal to the Ruulothi. Conrad and Dianna just shook their heads and laughed when he announced it. He must have looked a little incredulous because they followed it up by insisting that he could learn something in the process. Conrad took the time to go out to one of their outbuildings, that he called a barn, to do some work on his vehicle that he had spoken about earlier and make sure it was ready for use tomorrow.

Greg talked as they got set up in incredibly comfortable, but slightly too small, cushioned chairs. "Something you probably should know about humanity, if you haven't learned or figured it out already, is that we are highly competitive. Even over the simplest of things, and if we can't find an outlet for that competitive spirit... well, then we just make one. One of our longest lasting sayings is to never tell us that something is impossible, because then we will do it just to prove you wrong. So, Mr. Ruufarrl, welcome to the wonderful world of Sports!"

With that announcement, he activated their wall mounted broadcast terminal and picked out a signal to view. "Now I figure as a warrior race you will appreciate the more physical sports. So lets start here. This is an Earth based broadcast, recorded and played from a local way station. It is called American Football. The country that it came from no longer truly exists, but it is still a wildly popular sport on both the professional and collegiate levels and has taken root in many developed worlds. This is the..." He paused as he looked at the display, "Ah, the Centauri Knights and the Glasian Condors. This should be a good match.”

The screen flickered and showed a massive stadium packed with people, proving his statement of popularity. The field had painted lines marked in intervals and two teams of humans clad in what appeared to be riot gear stood opposing one another. It did not take long for him to recognize the physicality required of the "game", as the two teams of humans repeatedly slammed one another into the ground. In one particular case, one of the humans caught the strangely shaped ball and was promptly folded in half by another running into him full force, dropping the ball. Another saw the thrower of the team buried under what must have been nearly a thousand kilos of meat and bone before jumping up and running to the line again, seemingly uninjured.

"This is certainly a brutal sport. Despite their seeming superb resilience, I suspect that injuries are common?"

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"Yes, it is rare that a game is completed without someone going to see the medic. Most of them shake it off and troop it out before returning to play. For them, this is their life and lively hood. Serious injuries DO occur though. Most often this comes in the form of concussions and broken bones. Very rarely, thanks to advances in both rules and equipment, there can be a death or severe permanent injury. To be honest, a lot of long term players do develop some sort of condition from suffering repeated concussions. No amount of padding and hardware can stop your brain from rattling around in your head from a hard impact. But they get paid millions per season, so they can afford to ignore the risks for the pay."

Ruufarrl blinked repeatedly and his ears and whiskers twitched as his mind caught up to what was just said, "I am sorry, did you say millions? In human currency or Galactic marks?"

Greg laughed wryly, "Either, our currencies are pretty close in comparative value right now and the players can actually choose which they wish to be paid in. Oh, and the best of them earn many millions per season." He looked over at Ruufarrl with a smile, "Just doesn't quite seem right, does it? But that is the nature of the sport and its demand and risks. Those stadiums and interplanetary flights for games don't pay for themselves after all."

They continued watching until the end of that game, resulting in the Knights claiming victory in a last minute push. Greg started cycling through the channels again as he talked, "So we have a similar sport called rugby, played with fewer pads and different rules. We have some slower and less risky games like baseball, which involved hitting a ball with a stick and running a course to reach certain objectives. Then there is Soccer, or true Football, which involves kicking a ball into a large net.

Then we have more active sports like Hockey, which is played on ice and never stops moving. Racing moves quickly, but it passes slowly unless you are watching rally racing. Basketball is pretty fast paced, but rarely exciting and the basic goal is the same as true Football, getting a ball across a playing zone and into a net. Any preferences?"

"You play sports on ice? What about other biomes and in space?"

"Yup, they strap metal blades on their feet and skate around on them to try and get a sliding puck into a very small net. As for the rest, I am sure you can find something for everywhere. Swimming and boat racing, aerial acrobatics with planes and parachutes, desert races. There are woodsmen competitions where they have a variety of tree cutting related tasks that they compete to find out who can do the fastest. As for Null-G, ehh, not much. There's a few young sports like G-ball, which is basically space soccer, but they haven't taken off yet as it usually winds up with people flailing about until they crash into something. I think there might be a G-Laser Tag, or just G-Tag that is gaining some interest, but none of them are broadcast on anything but local channels just yet."

As he spoke he paused momentarily on the various signals... channels he had called them, to allow them to start playing a small window of the sport in question and allow Ruufarrl to see what he was speaking of. For those available at least. He felt that the Zero-G games would be interesting in their inherent complexity, but there were none to be found.

"Is there no limit to their imagination? I remember their history from Conrad. They rarely war amongst themselves anymore, so they create bloodless wars by proxy? Their sports seem to use similar tactics and team building as militaries. Is this truly just about competing, or is it something more?"

Ruufarrl considered the options presented to him as he mused and found himself intrigued by the ice game. "This Hockey of yours seems to be an interesting concept."

Greg nodded at this, "Alright, Hockey it is."

The screen changed and was filled with images of a much smaller playing arena that was covered in ice. Humans wearing pads and helmets, standing on metal blades and swinging sticks at a small black object careened around this arena at breakneck speeds. "He was right, they do not stop moving in the slightest. Is their endurance truly so... Ah, there. it was so quick I nearly missed it. They don't pause to switch out members, they simply put another one out when one comes back to rest. Hmm, even so. The hours of practice they must put in to maintain that energy level and coordination out of seeming chaos must be near to that of our own combat champions." As he continued watching he saw them slam one another to the ice and the walls in a fight for supremacy of the object. The more heavily protected of their groups bent and twisted in ways that had to be painful to stop them from launching the object into their respective nets.

Then, something happened. He did not recognize what it was, but Greg apparently did as he muttered, "Oh, you rotten bastard." Two of the opposing players closed on one another, clearly heated. Their gloves and sticks went flying and next thing he saw they were grappled onto one another and slamming their fists into each other. The fight was an ungainly one. Their footwear prevented them from gaining any real purchase for a powerful blow, but they repeatedly tugged one another into their fists until the official deemed they had fought for long enough and pushed in between them. He separated the fighters and sent them both to an isolation box, one obviously more injured than the other.

"In terms of capability, that left much to be desired. It stood as next to nothing in comparison to what I saw on the ship. The medium may be difficult to work with, but I would hope to see something more... impressive of the humans."

"Heh, you had that one coming alright. You don't just get to high stick someone under the shield like that."

"Are such things common? Do all of your sports allow their players to fight?"

"Hmm, oh no, of course not. This is really the only team game that allows it, and only to a certain extent. Although..." He stopped and looked at Ruufarrl with a mischievous grin, "I have saved the best for last, if fighting interests you."

Ruufarrl tilted his head and gave a slight grin as the ear closest to Greg twitched back and forth. "So, not only do they have these sports, but they treat combat as a sport too. This should prove worthwhile."

"Indeed it does."

With a couple inputs from a control stick the screen again shifted. This time it showed a very small combat arena with a fence around the outside. Two fighters stood facing off and circling one another with an official of some sort in the arena with them. It appears they had lucked out and caught the very start of the match. Seemingly in opposition to what he had just seen in their other sports, these two combatants were small. They continued to circle for a few moments before closing and offering measured blows against one another. "Testing resolve? No, He mentioned that these are professional sports, they would not need to do such at this level. They are testing reach, reaction and response."

The match continued in this manner for a few more moments, then one of them threw a kick into the mix, aiming for his opponent's head. The sheer range of flexibility startled him. Ruulothi only used their feet if grappled with an opponent or had thrown an opponent onto the ground. Even then it was a very predictable raking motion. But this, this was like having another arm to strike with. His years of experience showed him the subtle movements that preceded the attack, but it was still blindingly fast in comparison to what his own people were capable of.

Nor did his motion provide much of an opening. He recovered from his miss with a rapid spin, maintaining the momentum created by the kick and placing himself square with his opponent again. His opponent, in turn, merely kicked his leading leg. "Such impacts will take time to build to the point where they are effective, it is a long term strategy. Unless of course he catches them in the middle of another of their head kicks. Then they will hit the floor hard."

The high kicker took a couple of fast and hard blows to the body and head, clashing a couple of times himself before moving. He had waited until his opponent retracted another leg kick before dashing in for a grab that put them both on the fence. They worked each other back and forth to seek advantage with the pinned opponent driving blow after blow into high kicker's body, but he had already secured the upper hand after compromising his opponents balance. He quickly shifted his grip and drove his hip into his opponent, yanking their feet off the ground and driving them to the floor. He then squirmed on top and started raining blows down onto his opponent.

"Why would!? Ah right, no claws. They have no fear of entering into a front grapple as they have no claws with which to rend. Biting may be more limited, but it is still possible, at least in a life or death fight. Though I doubt they would allow such things in an exhibition style tournament fight like this."

The fighter on bottom protected himself well, even reaching out to strike his opponent to keep them in check. Seeing this the high kicker on top changed their tempo, focusing blows primarily on one side. This served to bait his pinned opponent into another strike on the inactive side, and action that was immediately punished. The high kicker quickly wrapped himself around this outstretched arm, extended only for the briefest of moments, and leaned back to trap the arm between his body and his hands... and stretched.

It took only seconds for the pinned opponent to signal a surrender, his arm extended to the limits of what it was capable of flexing naturally.

"Well, that's a shame. That was over too quick to really show anything at all. Ah, the next few matches should be good though. This was what we call the feather weight division, lightweights." Greg paused in consideration for a moment in his explanation before continuing. "Oh yeah, we classify the matches based on a weight system to try and create a more even playing field. That way no one can simply toss their opponent around like a wet noodle. The next few, we got one middleweight weight, and a heavyweight match. Then a women's fight."

"Ah, so your women participate too? Interesting. Are their matches like this one?"

"Ehhh, some are, some aren't. They don't have the same upper limit to weight divisions either, so it is a tough comparison. Don't get me wrong though, they can fight just fine. If anything they are more energetic and driven than most of the men."

They heard the front door open, and Conrad came through to see what they were up to.

"Oh boy. He got you in deep with the sports doesn't he? Just remember that those gloves they wear soften the blows a bit. They are for both protecting their hands and faces from getting broken, and to prolong the match for entertainment. If they didn't have them, then those things would usually be over in moments... Anyway, I am going to bed early. We have both been up for nearly a full day now, so don't worry about dinner for me."

Greg and Ruufarrl both acknowledged him and he set off to tell his mother that he wouldn't be up for dinner before heading up the stairs to his room.

Now that something had been said, Ruufarrl could feel the exhaustion creeping in. Even so, he felt too invested in watching the matches and wanted to see and learn more, so he pushed past his exhaustion and stayed up a little longer to continue.

The skill of the combatants in the ensuing matches was evident. Their movements were precise and practiced, and their strategies rehearsed. These were no part time warriors, they clearly spent the majority of their time training.

These next matches showed clear divisions in fighting styles, power and endurance. Compared to the light dancing of the Featherweights, the Heavyweights plodded around the arena, direct in their intent. They did not dodge so much as they simply absorbed the blows of their opponents, blows that seemed to hit like a runaway grav-trolley. Their sheer power reminded Ruufarrl of the knuckle plated Kordanite he saw among the Pirate crew. They fought in a similarly blunt manner, but the humans still sprinkled in their kicks, knees and elbows in equally devastating and potentially bone breaking strikes. This flexibility of both mind and body that allowed them to use every part of their bodies as a weapon was something completely unique to humans.

For every other warrior type race, they had a set of natural weapons that they based their combat styles off of. For the Kordanites it was their knuckles, for the Ruulothi and Clantor, it was their claws, for others their teeth, or feet. But for Humans, everything was equally in play. He was starting to see how Conrad was able to rapidly change mental paths and address each new threat as it arose. It was a trained response, but one that he clearly possessed.

The Heavyweight match continued with the fighters getting winded and grappling while standing, punching one another as they leaned against the fence. The match ended with one of the fighters lowering his guard for a strike and catching a well timed or lucky counterblow in exchange, knocking the man stiff to the floor. Ruufarrl shuddered to himself when he considered the amount of trauma necessary for such a thing to occur. “And they do this for a living, so it is a common occurrence. That kind of an impact would break a Ruulothi jaw. In truth, most of the blows shown in that match would break a Ruulothi’s bones. In a fight of Human against Ruulothi, it would entirely depend on which of the combatants struck the first telling blow. Would the Ruulothi be broken first, or the Human be shredded as it closed in?”

As they Middleweight fight started, Ruufarrl saw a balance between the two extremes. There were equal parts absorbing and dodging, striking and grabbing. More balance between footwork and handwork. Their energy expenditure was more focused. Where the Featherweights spent most of their energy moving, and the Heavyweights in power blows and strength struggles, the Middleweights spent it with their standing strikes and grapples. Each opponent engaged for dominance and retreated to just outside of striking range on a failure.

Their match was more reminiscent of what he had seen from Conrad’s movements, even though Ruufarrl would classify him as being just under the size of the heavyweights. “This must mean that he is lighter on his feet than the standard human his size. A result of his training or upbringing? Or perhaps both.”

This fight didn’t end with a fighter on the ground or signaling defeat. It went through all three rounds and ended only after the final timer expired, showing the pure physical constitution of the fighters. Both were winded, bloody and beaten, but neither showed any signs of stopping, even at the end. An impressive display, all told. “If this is what their civilians do for fun and a job, I wonder what their military is truly like. Those Veteran Honor Guards looked as though they stood in the shadow of the same tree as those fighters. Is that the standard? Or is it an exception? I will have to ask if they will speak on it tomorrow.”

Ruufarrl suddenly yawned. He covered his fangs out of respect for his hosts and shook himself. Greg chuckled at the display, and certainly didn’t seem to be offended in any manner by the lack of decorum Ruufarrl had shown.

“Mister Ruufarrl, please, you don’t need to force yourself to stay up for our benefit. I understand ship time is different from planet time. I did a couple tours of duty in the Navy myself when I was Conrad’s age, I remember it all too well. Please, get some sleep, the bed is a memory nano-gel, it should let you sleep just fine. I will let Dianna know we will be having a light dinner. See you in the morning.”

“I apologize for my rudeness. And thank you, I will indeed head to sleep.”

Ruufarrl stood with a little difficulty, he seemed to have been a tight fit in the chair and it did not want to let him go. He returned to the room he had originally seen the cat in and sank into the bed after he closed the door.

Then he continued to sink. He stiffened in alarm, then purred in deep satisfaction as his body relaxed in ways he had not known that it could. He practically melted into the bed as it subtly shifted to support his different body shape.

As he relaxed he thought, “This… This alone would be worth any trouble in allying with the humans.”

He was trying to figure out how to get one of these mattresses to Ruuloth Prime when he finally faded out to sleep.