-Ruufarrl-

He woke with the dawn.

Ruufarrl was so used to ship living at this point that he had forgotten to close the window coverings to prevent the early sunlight from waking him. The difference in environment would have bothered him had the situation been different, but the wonderful bed that he lay on had overridden any issues with sleeping in a strange place and the lack of background humming and vibration from the ship's engines.

Or maybe he had just been that tired.

He let his senses absorb what they could from his position. Some sort of creature was making a warbling sound from outside, heard faintly through the closed windows. He could hear someone moving around downstairs. He thought it likely to be Conrad's mother, Dianna, as he could smell some food being prepared. He thought about the clarity with which he could smell and hear for a moment before cracking open one eye and turning his head.

His door had been opened during the night. It now stood open a little wider than the flat of his hand. He narrowed his eyes and started to sit up, then realized that something was weighing down his bed coverings.

He lifted his head and looked down. Right where his legs joined his body, lay a curled form with black fur. "Ahh, so it was you that came in then."

Solais stirred as he shifted and spoke. The cat looked up at him with a dreary laziness, then rolled itself so that it once again lay against his legs, it's paws sticking up in the air and curled.

Ruufarrl snorted at the display. "So, you have decided you can trust me after all." He reached down and gently pet the cat's neck as he had seen Greg do the day before. The cat gave a small chirrup, leaned into the touch and began to purr. He remembered the conversation he had with Conrad while looking up the animals, about how their pets were also considered to be stress relief for those that owned and/or pet them.

He smiled to himself as he lay back down and continued to pet Solais, immersing himself in the tactile softness of its fur and the gentle vibration of its purr. He had never kept pets himself, considering them before to be a waste of resources and time. But now he wondered if perhaps he had missed the point entirely. "Perhaps a few more minutes of rest wouldn't hurt after all."

_____________________________________________________

He woke again a few minutes later to more noise in the hall and a stronger smell from the cooking food. He looked down at the cat that still sat between his legs, "Sorry little one. It is time for me to rise." He gently worked himself out of the bed, with the cat still stubbornly refusing to move from its position. Once he was out of the bed Solais simply stretched out and rolled over again.

Again he chuckled at the cats antics, "Very well then. The bed is yours."

Ruufarrl took a few moments to get properly attired and headed downstairs. Along the way he met a very dreary Conrad, the source of the commotion that had awoken him. He was coming out of a side room and still looked half asleep. Conrad paused as he noticed him and then nodded before pointing back at the room he had exited.

"Should have shown it to you before. This is the washroom. You have a shower, sink and a... bio waste disposal... a toilet." He stopped talking a moment as his mind ground into grudging service. "I... Do you... Eh whatever, you'll figure it out. You take care of bodily functions and hygiene in there. I will see you downstairs."

Ruufarrl cocked his head in amusement as Conrad went down the stairs. He decided it might be a good idea to at least familiarize himself with the facilities, so he stepped inside the indicated room. The sink was wet, likely the object that Conrad had been working with before he exited. The large stall resembled the sanitation pods that were standard throughout the GalCom. Though it did not look like a sonic unit, he suspected that it would be easy enough to use. The toilet was the only object left. Obviously built for human proportions rather than of a universal design, he looked suspiciously at the water in the bowl. "Not a Sonic-Pneumatic system, nor any sort of closing cover to create the necessary pressure for such a system, it must have something to do with the water. I suppose that it might be a gentler system designed for planet side use, given the lack of metal on the unit." He then shrugged to himself and left the room, "There will be time to learn later."

The smell of strange food got stronger as he went downstairs, and he followed it to the source. Dianna stood in the cooking area, swatting and fussing at Conrad as he tried to sneak what looked to be thin strips of fried meat from a plate. She shooed Conrad out and turned to him, "Good Morning, Mr. Ruufarrl. Breakfast will be out shortly. Shall I assume you will be having water again?"

"Yes, thank you. Might I ask what it is you have made?"

"Of course. I've put together toast made of Barker's bread with some local fruit jams to put on it. The bread is made from local grains and has something of an earthy but pleasant taste to it. We also have scrambled chicken eggs, home fries made from soft Stryka root and fried bacon."

"That sounds like a wide ranging set. Jams and eggs I am familiar with in general, we use some fruits and animal eggs to complement our diets. I am curious about the Stryka root, this special bread and bacon. What are they?"

"Ah, ok. Hmm, well I guess I can start from the very beginning to explain a few things. I don't know how things are done in your sector of space, but we made a big mistake a long time ago when we first started exploring. We introduced earth plants to a habitable world, and it completely overturned the balance there. The introduced Earth plants lost, there just weren't enough of them to overcome a hostile environment, but they did take some of the local flora with them, and it started an ecological disaster. So nowadays there are laws and strict regulations so that we don't bring anything with us that goes into the ground or let loose into the wilds.

So, knowing that, we have to find local counterparts in order to make some of our favored items. Terrence Barker was an original colonist, a brewer by trade, who figured out how to take the grain from Rattleweeds and make it useable for bread and alcohol. Rattleweeds are a long grass that is covered in hard seedpods that rattle in the winds, but the seed pods are nearly impossible to get into without destroying the actual seed inside. He found that they could be soaked in a soda wash, which acted like an acid and would soften the cases, allowing the seeds to be separated, threshed out and used.

Now, Stryka root is the closest local approximation we have to a potato, a starchy root vegetable from Earth that can quite literally be prepared with everything. Stryka is a little more delicate and soft thanks to being more porous, so care needs to be taken when storing and preparing it so it doesn't get bruised or smashed accidentally. But, because it is soft and porous, it holds juices and flavors very well. When made into home fries it gets cut up and put into oil to pan fry with seasonings. It pulls in and absorbs the seasonings so that each individual fry practically explodes with it when eaten. As for Bacon... well." She stopped and smiled as she looked at the strips of meat a moment before turning back to him.

"Bacon has always made our worlds go 'round. It is made from strips of pig meat, an old Earth farm animal that is easy to rear and slaughter. As I said, they are regulated off Earth, but they are a staple resource and can eat virtually anything. This makes them perfect for starting colonies on strange worlds. This particular batch of bacon was smoked with Roka Tree wood. One of the jams is made from the fruit of the same tree, so they should go well together."

Ruufarrl stood as still as a statue in surprise, "You have put so much care and attention to detail into just a simple home meal, both today and yesterday. Please, there is no need to do such a thing for me. I do greatly appreciate the effort, but it is unnecessary. I am nobody special."

She looked at him curiously a moment as she mentally tracked what he said, "There is no need for such humility. Food is one of the great Vices of Humanity. This is a simple home meal. This is how we cook every day, everywhere. In fact, both the fajitas yesterday and this today are considered to be quick hot meals, ready in 30 minutes or less with the proper tools. Oh, I almost forgot. Here, I already prepared you a list of ingredients and compounds."

Ruufarrl's mind whirled at her words as he read the information she handed him, "I am never going to be able to go back to Galactic food again, am I?"

Not even on Ruuloth did they eat in such a manner. They enjoyed smoked meats, to be sure, but that was more of a delicacy that took tremendous time and effort to prepare. The desire to put in research and discover new flavors simply wasn't there for his people. For the Ruulothi and the majority of the GalCom, food was simply food, it was prepared quickly and with little thought behind it beyond basic nutritional need. Whether this was because of the prevalence of the Galactic Universal Diet or not would be a debate for scholars, if anyone cared to debate over it at all. Those few peoples that went beyond that often had things compounds in their food that no other race could eat. Their enhancements were a response to the conditions and either a way of supplementing something that lacked due to the compound in question, or for covering the bad taste of the offending compound. So these foods went unappreciated by the majority.

From the list handed to him just now... there were no such issues.

"In that case Matron Dianna, I accept graciously and will wait intently. I look forward to trying what you have made." She flashed him yet another smile, "Thank you, I will be out shortly. Please, have a seat with the others."

Ruufarrl followed her instructions and moved to the large table that Conrad and Greg sat at, watching the Broadcast Terminal relay the news. He settled in and was drawn to the Broadcast himself, if only because he started picking up on the major differences between Human and GalCom standards of news.

Currently, there was a female reporter on screen talking about potential trouble in bordering GalCom space. Her voice was measured and professional, showing no emotion.

"On the far side of the Gulf, just in between both GalCom and Human space lies a habitable system whose ownership is currently being hotly contested. The Planet of Fildecl has found itself under dispute between the Chirleen and the Qazirxel . The Chirleen are an omnivorous race of avian like creatures that live off the seas. The Qazirxel, though we have no recorded description, are also known to live off the seas and have tried to lay claim to the planet even though the Chirleen already have an establish colony planet side. A GalCom run Space Station has already been constructed at the Chirleen's request as they are currently undergoing the signatory process.

The Qazirxel appear to be more militant than the Chirleen and have made several threats to take the system by force. The Chirleen have entreated the Galactic Council to recognize their claim. However, per their policies, GalCom will not intervene in the conflict unless the last inhabited world of one of the sides becomes threatened. The Chirleen are known to have at least four Colonized Systems under their control. The territory of the Qazirxel is yet unknown as they are an enigmatic race that does not associate with others and have shown no interest in joining the Galactic Community and live on the fringes of GalCom space. They have a history of getting involved in similar disputes with non-signatories of the Galactic Accords.

Leaders of the Sol Systems Alliance have indicated that they are keeping a watchful eye on the situation. They have dispatched a single battlegroup to patrol the region of the Gulf nearest the conflict and are ready to mobilize more military assets if needed. A spokesperson for the Bureau of Travel and Commerce has stated that there are no known humans or human organizations living or working in the Fildecl System. So no evacuations are necessary, but travel advisories have been put in place. Various other strategies are also being enacted to prevent the conflict from spilling over into Human Territory, if it should reach that point."

"Her pronunciations were quite well done, and her information was quite accurate as well. I wonder what assets the humans have that allow them to find such information. I only knew of the system due to its classification and danger for shipping. You wouldn't find nearly as much information presented in a GalNews broadcast and would need to be intimately familiar with the situation to even come close. We certainly would not hear from Leaders on their efforts to deal with such a situation. I think the most we would have seen was a Red Zone warning in up to date star maps."

Ruufarrl growled softly as the reporter moved on to another topic about local fishing disputes. "Hmmm, a Red Zone system, but not one that we Ruulothi are likely be involved in."

Conrad and Greg both looked at him before Greg spoke, "A Red Zone system? Is that like a conflict zone?"

Ruufarrl nodded, "Yes, it is a classification that we use for systems that are actively under a dispute of some sort or that may involve risks to personnel or ships. Severe pirate problems, military conflicts, space anomalies, insurrections, and so on. It is an enter-at-your-own-risk classification."

"And GalCom won't step in at all?"

"No, not for the denizens of the planet. Though they might do something if the Space Station was targeted, as it is their property and personnel that man it. But no species has been foolish enough to do so for a very long time."

"Huh, I can't imagine the SSA not getting involved if it was someone who wanted to ally with us. That just doesn't make sense that you would willingly let someone who wants to work with you suffer."

Ruufarrl's whiskers twitched at this, "They... have their reasons."

He saw Conrad nod to himself, likely remembering their lessons. Greg looked like he was going to say something more, but he was beaten by Dianna coming around the corner with platters of food.

"Breakfast is ready! Conrad, could you get the rest please?" Conrad rose at her call, "Of course, mom." He left and returned quickly with the remaining platters.

The breakfast was very satisfying. Ruufarrl found each component to be its own adventure. He tried a couple of things that were recommended to him by his hosts, each changing the tastes in new ways. But overall, he felt that the star of the food was as indicated earlier.

Bacon simply could not be beaten.

___________________________________________________________

-Conrad-

It took everything that he had to not laugh at Ruufarrl. The old cat looked like he had gone to Heaven during breakfast. He even caught him looking disappointed that the meal was ending. It wasn't anything that someone unfamiliar with the Ruulothi would have caught, but the slight reversal of his ears and flattening of his whiskers were obvious to Conrad now. He didn't expect the bacon to be as big of a hit as it was, but he figured that it really could make people see the light.

He would have to get him some jerky when they went to town. It wasn't quite the same, but it should allow him to come down off his bacon high safely.

The rest of the morning went by in a flash as they cleaned up and got ready for the day. There was a moment of levity as Ruufarrl was forced to use one of his mother's hair dryers after taking a shower. He came out of it looking so fluffy that Conrad actually had to turn around and go back downstairs before he busted out in laughter at the two meter tall warrior cat that looked like a red and black puff ball.

Thankfully Ruufarrl had gotten his fur under control by the time he came back downstairs. Though Conrad still had to exert an iron will to prevent from snickering at the memory.

Conrad took the rest of the morning to show Ruufarrl around their property and familiarize him with it. He was especially interested in his mother's garden and Greenhouse, and their butchering set up for hunting and farm animal slaughtering. His father hadn't picked up any pigs or other meat animals this year thanks to Conrad being away, but he still hunted so the rooms and freezers at the back of the barn were still in good shape. He did find some strange marks on the trees out back and told his father about it, but otherwise all seemed to be normal.

After they had a light lunch Conrad and Ruufarrl climbed into his Grav-truck and he drove them further up river to Santa-Anna, where Master Silva awaited.

As the fields and farmhouses passed them by he filled Ruufarrl in on where they were going.

"Sorry about the delay. Master Silva's Dojo doesn't open until regular school gets out. A lot of her students are local kids and their parents, so there is really no business for her in the mornings. We should be getting there right about the time the advanced class starts, so you should get to see some pretty good stuff being done. Her place is on the outskirts of the far side of town, so we should have the chance to stop anywhere you want on the way back. Did you have anything in mind?"

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"With so many options it is like trying to pick a single tree out of a forest. I think the best option would be something that could give my clan a way to better understand Humanity? Some sort of historical dissertation perhaps? If we wish for lasting friendly relations and mutual support, it would be best if we had something more solidly evident than my own simple observations."

Conrad smiled at this, "Well it looks like we were both thinking along the same lines then. I was planning on stopping by a bookstore on the way back to pick up a translated text for you. I think we can work something out to find what you want. My mother said that most bookstores are now offering terminal files and translated versions of anything they can find. They can even translate and print it on the spot, you just have to wait a few minutes for it."

"You still use physical copies of documents?"

"Yeah, we do. It is still cheaper over all to print on paper than it is to create a tablet or handheld terminal with just that one volume on it. Not o mention less wasteful. People also use them as decorations of a sort, I believe you saw the bookshelves in the living room? So, it is mostly a personal preference thing. Even to this day some people claim there is nothing better than holding a physical printed book in your hands. The demand is still there, especially out on the fringes, so the stores still exist. I guess it also serves as a soft back-up of sorts in case of major mechanical or technological failure or electromagnetic disruptions."

Ruufarrl looked out his window, seemingly deep in thought. Conrad saw his face and features shift as he mused over the information.

"So these books are common among all human households? As is the way you prepare food and eat?"

Conrad hesitated a moment as he tried to figure out the intended direction of the questions. "Yes. The food especially is how most people and families eat, there are exceptions both above and below that, but it is the general standard. As for the books, I would say about half of all families have a small personal library of some sort. Be it just a couple of book cases or a dedicated reading room. It is easier on the eyes too, you don't have to strain as much as when you look at terminal screens all day."

"This question may seem rude, so please do not feel as though you need to answer. How affluent is your family? I am seeing some strong differences in what is considered to be standards of living between our people, and among others in the GalCom."

"If I had to hazard a guess that is probably due to the severe difference in how our communities and societies formed. We are what you would consider to be middle class. We aren't especially affluent, so we can't just simply go out and buy whatever. We have to work for everything that we get and have. But, we can still live comfortably, though we may need to adjust depending on outside factors and tough times. I can see how some of the things we do would appear to be extravagances to others.

You mentioned during your lessons that your people don't hold too much stock in extras beyond the practical. Has it always been like that?"

"Not until we entered space. We had always been a warrior culture, so practicality and function was always prime amongst all other concerns. But we did once upon a time seek extraneous benefits. Once we joined the Galactic Community we settled into their standards, which are largely utilitarian and simple. I am wondering now what we may have done had we continued as we were without ever meeting the Community. We do not want now, but neither do we seek extra comforts. We simply live as we are."

Unsure of how to respond, the silence grew until both were looking out the window and lost in their own thoughts.

____________________________________________________________

"Just what kind of Traazol nest have I ripped open?" Ruufarrl stared out the window as the City of Santa-Anna started to get denser. A warning had toned on the center terminal of the vehicle, causing Conrad to bring the vehicle down to ground level, likely a local safety ordinance.

"Is associating with Humans going to truly change anything? Will it create cultural growth, or will it create cultural collapse? How will we as a people react to knowing that the difference of living standards is so glaringly different? Will we seek to emulate it, or will we see it as a weakness of the soft and further estrange their species? We still keep some comforts, those that require skill to work. Jewelers, smiths, tapestry makers. But this goes well beyond them, and this is just one Fringe Planet. I hope those histories that he spoke of will hold an answer that reflects in their favor."

Conrad interrupted his line of thought as he started to say something and then fell silent again. He did this a few more times, and Ruufarrl recognized it as him trying to find the compatible wording or comparisons that did not rely on unknown phrases. It was a quirk of habit that amused him when he saw it.

In the end, he said nothing, but Ruufarrl could still see him gnawing on the bone. He returned to looking out the window at the city. This was a much smaller affair than Cormorant had been. Few of its buildings reached for the skies and they seemed to follow a preplanned layout, standing in opposition to he pure chaos of the rapidly expanded Capital. It was a known issue for large and populous cities. As they grew they needed more space and fast, so they used different people and methods to plan the roadways, resulting in oddly shaped districts and roads. This city seemed to have avoided that by planning well in advance of their growth.

The people here weren't as colorful than those in the city. Their clothes were more muted and natural. "Worker's clothes. Rugged, dependable and resistant. Or just professional." He added the last as he saw a collection of humans in suits entering a building. Again, he saw large natural parks mixed into the city. He would have to ask about those later. For now, he didn't want to interrupt the youngblood's paths of thought as he was still working on a response.

Now that they were down on the ground level, Ruufarrl could see inside the buildings and see what they were offering. About half of those he saw appeared to be professional businesses, holding offices and meeting places. The others appeared to be shops of some kind. Many displayed clothes, jewelry, food, or some other item in their large forward windows as an advertisement. The most popular were the food stores of various types of both shopping and eating. There always seemed to be more vehicles and people around them.

The buildings then started shifting into local residences with their much smaller windows and fences and tiny natural gardens. These then gave way to homes with small fields in front of and behind the building. These places had many young children out playing and chasing one another around.

Finally, the buildings opened up again and Conrad brought the vehicle to a medium sized sprawling building. It had a large field out back that was lined with well managed trees and had a small parking lot filled with vehicles off to one side and a sign in front of the lot. Though he could not read the words, the silhouettes depicted were clashed in conflict, and he assumed it to be their destination.

Conrad opened his door as he spoke, "Alright, we are here. Judging from the cars and the time, class should be underway. You ready?"

Ruufarrl followed suit and nodded at him as he also started to exit, "I am."

Conrad stopped as he got out and looked over the top of the truck at Ruufarrl. "You said your people live as they are?"

Ruufarrl nodded at him. It seemed he had finally constituted what he wished to say. "That is the truth as I see it. We live as we are, as we are needed to be."

Conrad breathed deep as he nodded, "Well, I guess there is the difference. You live as you are, and as you need to be for right then. We live for tomorrow, and for what we wish to be." He paused again as he looked at the building, "Right, here we go."

Ruufarrl took a moment to follow, "Is that truly the difference between us? Such a simple shift in direction of thought. He is not wrong. Living for tomorrow is what I myself have started to do, what I have been encouraging others to do, and what has caused trouble for me. An entire race of people like that, and with more territory that any other two or three species combined?"

Conrad waited for him at the door. With one final nod, he opened it and they went in.

______________________________________________________________

The inside of the training school was open. There was a selection of seats along the right side as they walked in and a small half wall marking the edge of the sitting area. Beyond that was a long open section with a padded floor and walls and a wall sized mirror on the far end. Ruufarrl could see thick wooden spars running across the ceiling, likely there to prevent the need of supports that would interfere with the training area. along the walls to the side of the mirror were racks and bins of various weapons. The variety of weapons he saw from the brief glimpse he got was staggering.

A class of thirteen students were working together on some sort of grappling techniques. Before they all stopped and stared at the newcomers, he saw them practicing throwing each other to the ground with a smooth movement of the hips and shoulders and gaining control of the thrown student. Some saw them walk in, while others caught them in the mirror. The class effectively halted as they all turned to take in the new arrivals. A woman about Dianna's age with light brown hair pulled back into a tail stepped forward after they entered and spoke in Galactic Standard.

"Class, these are the special guests that I talked about earlier. Most of you should remember Mr. Mclaughlin. Conrad, would you mind introducing us to your guest?"

"Of course, Master Silva. Everyone, this is Ruufarrl. He is a Ruulothi Battlemaster and former Clan Head of the Night Manes."

Ruufarrl stepped forward at his indicating gesture and gave a small bow. "It is my pleasure and Honor to be here at your Training Academy."

He saw some small conversations amongst the students, all an older student speaking to a younger. "Ahh, it seems that not all of them have a full grasp of Galactic Standard. They are not yet integrated, so it is understandable." Almost as though she was reading his mind, Master Silva nodded to the students, "I apologize, some of them are still learning GalStan. We on the Gulf Border learn it as a matter of course, but you will find that the farther away from that border you get the less likely your average citizen will know it. We do expect that to change, the longer we are in contact with the Community. But it will take time."

"There is no need to apologize. Your diligence reflects well on you." She gave a slight smile at this and nodded her thanks before turning back to the class.

"The more observant of you will notice that these two gentlemen are wearing similar accessories. That is because Mr. Mclaughlin here..." she paused and gave a wintry smile at Conrad, one that caused him to recoil slowly in anticipation. "Got himself involved in a very dangerous situation. Thankfully, his training here saved not only his life, but the lives of others on his ship. Because of that, he has been recognized and inducted into a Ruulothi custom by Master Ruufarrl, and will soon be on his way to Ruuloth Prime to meet with the current Night Mane Clan Head as a part of this custom.

You would do well to remember that your actions reflect not only on yourselves out in space, but on humanity as a whole. If you think to use what you learn here to harm others, there will be a reckoning. But if you use it to help others, you will serve to further good relations among the people out there. A benefit which cannot be understated."

She then spoke rapidly in another language, a different one from what he had overheard Greg and Dianna speaking to themselves. It had quick turnover with rolling words and seemed to be spoken mostly from the front of the mouth and tongue. He raised a questioning glance at Conrad and he leaned in to explain.

"That is Spanish. Everyone on the Fringe knows three or four languages as their planets were intermingled communities when colonized. Most speak some form of English as it was a common trade language before we left our home system, that is what you heard mom and dad speaking. Nueva Rios is itself Spanish for "New Rivers", and it was named that by the original settlers. So Spanish is kind of the unofficial language here."

"How many languages do humans have?" Conrad laughed softly at this, "Ooh, something like several hundred. That was before we left earth, and doesn't even include new dialects from outlying worlds."

Ruufarrl looked at him in shock before realizing that Master Silva had turned back to them and was waiting.

"Ah, I am just now discovering that Humanity has a multitude of languages." He caught a couple of students smile or laugh softly to themselves at his pronouncement. They must have seen his look of surprise.

Master Silva simply tipped her head in acknowledgement. "It is something of a boon and a curse upon us as well. Conrad, would you mind leading the class in Escrima drills while Master Ruufarrl and I talk? Oh, and keep it in GalStan please."

"Of course Master Silva. Alright kiddos, everyone grab a stick!" The class broke into scattering bodies briefly before all converging on one of the bins in the back and reforming in lines with each student holding a stick at least as long as their lower legs.

Master Silva gestured for Ruufarrl to follow and led him through a door next to the mirrors. the door led to a small hallway which turned into an office through another door to his right. He stopped in surprise as he entered. One wall of the office held a desk with a terminal, and was the backside of the mirrors. Everything in the training room was fully visible through the glass. He could see Conrad starting them with warm-ups to loosen their joints and wrists.

Master Silva laughed at his reaction, "It keeps them honest. They never know when I am back here watching, so they are better at staying on task." She paused a moment before taking a breath and continuing.

"I have... A lot of questions. I am sure as a leader yourself that you can understand my being protective of my pupils. I consider them all to be like my own children. So, when I heard that one my my students had not only gotten into trouble in Galactic space, but had killed to survive I was...concerned. I was a part of the integration test group that went to Galactic space and followed around different groups to test the waters on what we could contribute. Conrad's acceptance as a loader was possible in part because of what we did there. It may have been some time ago, but I still have resources, and I know what GalCom policies and procedures are like."

She reached out and touched a button on her terminal and it hummed to life, Ruufarrl found himself unprepared for the image that it showed. The security view of the cargo bay, showing Conrad just starting his fight with the Clantor Matron.

"I understand that the fight was unavoidable. But it put Conrad in an incredibly difficult position. One which you seemed to be ready to take advantage of by immediately tapping him to be a Bloodclaw. Something that, by all accounts, your people have no interest in. So, why would you be so intent on dragging him into Intergalactic politics?"

"This woman represents something much more than a mere teacher. She is testing me, searching my intent and standing. I wonder if the Youngblood knows the depths of her resources."

"It was never my desire to involve him so deeply and so quickly, or possibly even at all. His acceptance as a Hunt Brother, a trusted representative of your race, was meant to be an offer not an ultimatum. But after the attack my path was forced. If I had done nothing, his involvement would have been twisted to create more tension between not only our races, but with the rest of the Community. He would have been made into a pariah and I... I would have been a fool to try and change the direction of the Hunt Winds by blowing into them. At the end of the tale, all I could do was acknowledge him as Bloodclaw to extend him the political protection of a representative of the Ruulothi. Though saying it that way is misleading, he absolutely earned his Mantle. It would have been a failure of my Honor, and that of the Ruulothi, if I had neglected to extend him that acknowledgement and protection after considering him for Hunt Brother in the first place. The young Ruulothi who died in the attack, he had grown close to Conrad. Trusted him even and shared his experiences with me. It showed me that perhaps there was a way past what had been put in place."

Master Silva considered his answer for a moment. "Put into place. The Founders then."

Ruufarrl froze. His hesitation was all the acknowledgement that Master Silva needed. She waved her hand around the office, "This is all Human built. There is no GalCom tech in here. You can speak freely."

He had no reason to doubt her, and her comment about their tech lined up well with what Isaiah Davidson had said back at the shuttle port. Even so, he considered carefully for a moment. "There is always the chance that they are trying to cull me for acting against them. Could they have put something into place so quickly amongst a people that are not yet signatories? No, even for them it is practically impossible. Very well then. If there is to be a chance of a future free from control, then they must know everything."

His mind made up, he nodded to her, "The Founding Seven. The conglomerate of Seven races that created the original Galactic Community, and who now run it in their own self-interests. Not for greed or power, but to ensure beyond any doubt that no matter what happens, they will be the ones to survive. The Founding originally happened due to an interstellar enemy that threatened to destroy them all piece by piece. They banded together to stop them, committing a genocide in the process and erasing their enemy from existence. Since then, they have expanded their influence while remaining in control. All other signatories live in their shadow to prevent them from ever threatening the Founders. They create the policies, they create the punishments, they control everything."

He gave master Silva a pointed look, "Until now. Humanity scares them. You are too big, with too many resources and too many people. You are established, prepared and capable of violence. Your very appearance and existence shook them to their cores and undermined them. They got complacent and you stung them for it. They had said that the Expanse could not be traversed, and then you did. You started the conversation in such a way as to prevent them from altering the information and making you look like a threat. You took control away from them. So now they must keep you at arm's length until they figure out how to wrest that control back. Conrad provided them with an opportunity, until I publicly announced his acceptance under Ruulothi customs. Had I not, they would have twisted that attack around to make it look as though he was Honorless and conniving, making the Ruulothi fight and die for him so that he may step in and take the accolades that were rightfully ours. An act that would have vilified your race to my own and boiled the blood of every Ruulothi in existence. Then, all they would have needed was the smallest of sparks to create a raging inferno that would have ended in a war that would have left humanity with but a single world to their name, and likely not even your home world . Forever forced to pay for the damages the war created, the repairs they are forced to undertake of what was once your own infrastructure and colonies. Your people, for all their brightness and potential, would become nothing more than a footnote. A living warning of the cost of crossing the Founders.Giving them all of your territory, technology and resources to squabble over. Humanity would never be allowed another world again."

He stopped and chuckled for a moment, "Well, they would have tried at least. I suspect from what I have seen of even your lighter patrol warships that such an act would have been... difficult, to say the least. This is how they remain in control. They only allow outsiders to join when they are sufficiently indebted to them to be unable to fight back. Warrior races are sent into wars of attrition to cull our numbers. Newcomers are left to fend for themselves until the Founders can step in to "save" them. The Clantor, Qazirxel and others are perfect tools for this. They create the opening the Founders need to step in. At the end of the tale, the other peoples of the galaxy are nothing more than a buffer against an outside threat to them. Little more than puppets."

"So in a way, you not only saved Conrad, whom had earned your respect, but you prevented the attempted destruction of humanity. Why though? What is it to you if we survive or are ground under?"

"With all that Humanity represents, with all that you are, first and foremost you are a beacon of what could be. Life under Founder control is life. It is measured and utilitarian, with little to no room for growth or change, and few even realize it. My people are suffering under the stagnation. Not in such a way as to lead to conflict, but we are forgetting who and what we are and were. Our leaders more and more become puppets of the Founders. Our first contact with your species? Hand selected representatives on both sides, meant to engender conflict and distrust. Open mouthed and opinionated on your side, hide bound and prideful traditionalists on ours. They never would have been able to see each other as equals or potential partners. As close interstellar neighbors, they needed us at odds to prevent a power shift.

I sought to change that. My clan has always been proponents of change and growth, but my voice got too loud and drew too much attention. So I needed to be removed from power. I now serve as little more than eyes and ears for the clan, but my dream, our dream lives on. It is my hope that by creating a bridge between our people with Conrad, we can learn from and support one another against the mechanisms of the Founders. Again, I had no desire to force it upon him. He was merely the first that could have been accepted as such. But circumstances forced my efforts."

He stopped as he watched the students. Conrad now had two knives and was spinning them in his hands in a show of dexterity and control. The other students seemed impressed at the display. A few moments later and he launched into another demonstration showing how to use the smaller weapons against the longer sticks the students carried. As he watched, Master Silva stepped up next to him.

"He is one of my best students. Though I would never be able to say so to his face. I learned the hard way that doing so generally means that they stop pushing themselves to learn more, believing themselves to be at their pinnacle. When they stop learning, they stop putting in the effort, then they stop showing up altogether." She leaned over and pushed a button on the terminal and the image sprang to life, showing the entire attack in the few short seconds it actually took before looping back to the start and replaying again.

"I never taught him half of that, he always had a flexible and quick mind. I still have no idea how the Hell he won. I don't think even I could have. Honestly you could have put a million humans with training in the same position, and I don't know if any could have pulled through. But somehow, he did. I guess that is the Fog of War for you."

"He seems to leave a lasting impression wherever he goes. He is sure to grab some whiskers on Ruuloth."

"About that." She leaned back and sat on the edge of her desk to face him, "What is that going to entail? Does this mean that he is going to need to stay permanently on Ruuloth as some sort of, Ward of the State?"

"No. Once he is confirmed as a Bloodclaw, his options will open up. He will be free to do as he wishes after the ceremony. But it will be highly encouraged that he stay in the Hunt so that his influence and image among the Ruulothi can grow. I have been appointed his Mentor for the interim, so I will be with him for some time yet. If he chooses to, he can stay. But I believe it to be far more likely that he will be offered a place on a Ruulothi trade vessel in his current job capacity as a loader. This will allow him to meet and get familiar with other Ruulothi, Ruulothi customs and Hunt Brothers from other races in a controlled environment, well away from politicians and the Founders. The opinions of Ship Captains are valued as they hold a risky job and must maintain order at all costs. My word as a Sheathed Claw only goes but so far outside of my clan, regardless of my previous appointments. If an active Captain vouches for him, he would be well on his way to becoming a beacon for both our people."

"Thank you for your direct honesty. May be so bold as to ask something more of you?"

Ruufarrl tilted his head and flicked his ears in curiosity. "You may."

She looked down at the floor a moment before looking back up, "Protect him. He is smart, skilled and strong and willing to help, but he can still be a bit naïve, especially to the ways of interstellar communities. Don't let them take him without a fight."

Ruufarrl looked at her in a new light, understanding now what she had meant earlier when she claimed to see all her students as her children. He gave her a short bow, "As though he were my own cub."

__________________________________________________________

-Silva-

After their meeting they headed back out into the class, where she promptly showed the students how their throws from earlier worked with sticks. Using Conrad as her testing dummy, of course. She got a laugh out of his look of terror when she called him up, "He couldn't possibly think he was going to get away with worrying me like that without having some bruises to show for it, did he?" The big Ruulothi seemed to enjoy the display as well, though she felt it was more for seeing the techniques. "Once a warrior, always a warrior. Don't I know it."

At the end of the class she allowed the kids a question and answer session. She knew they were only just barely containing themselves through the class, and they likely would have revolted or something if she hadn't let them loose. She let the barrage of questions for both of their visitors run over their time limit as the arriving parents of the younger students seemed to be just as interested in the display as their children were. They all talked excitedly about the pair of visitors as they got ready to leave.

After the students had left she gave Conrad a hug and told him to stay safe and to visit again before he left the planet, and gave Ruufarrl a proper bow of her own as they left and thanked him for coming to meet her.

Finally alone she locked her door, and sighed. "I thought I was done with this mess, and NOW we have a whole lot more riding on it. Boy, I swear you are going to be the death of me."

She returned to her office and watched the video play out again, fighting back tears as she thought about the implications, what may have been and what will likely come to pass. Finally, she stopped the video and got herself under control.

She brought up her terminal recording program and messaging program. She felt a little bad about recording her conversation with Ruufarrl. He had definitely been completely honest with her and was true to his desires for both a better future and the protection of Conrad. "But, needs are what they are. All people require proof, and this just might tip future things in your favor Battlemaster. You protect him from his side, and I will do my part."

Finally squared way mentally, she attached the video of the attack and her recorded meeting to the VIM, and began to speak.