After some time went by, Ma Grisha left the office leaving only myself, Elkra and Pok silently standing behind my looking like two imposing statues. They remain, stock still, it is impressive. These Garudan's seem to have a talent for familiar military doctrine and discipline, it's eerily advanced. I must look further into their history and culture to learn the underline reason for such cultural aspects.
Thoughts for another time as the object concealed within my suit pocket is of greater importance. I grasp it carefully as if holding a child. Hmm, that is a shame, the cloning process made us infertile. I will never have a child at least by normal means. It seemed like such a fulfilling endeavour from the civilian historical recordings. I'm getting off track, this is indeed the object to dwell on. In my hands is a small vial of liquid, seemingly harmless but containing a deadly weapon that could topple societies and bring them to their knees.
In my hand is the Vixorm serum, an artificially produced chemical used to pacify a species through chemical dependency and addiction. Currently, I have the science officers working on a treatment for such a drug, hopefully, they can succeed. For now, this weapon must remain dormant within my hands, until the rest can be procured. The ships should be here soon and likely the cargo aboard will not only contain Garudan prisoners but the dangerous chemical.
Before I can ponder further on my ruminations, I hear the soft voice of Elkra asking the obvious question. "Captain, what is that in your hand?" Indeed, an obvious question anyone would ask, considering my intense stare on a seemingly innocuous vial of blue liquid. I do not turn back to gaze upon her and instead remain locked on the vial.
A strange sensation permeates my back all the way up my spine and to my neck. An irritating feeling, that If I take my eyes off this vial for a nano cycle it may slip from my grasp forever, regardless of my lack of physical response, I still reply. "This, my dear Elkra is a truly dangerous weapon." After my words I hear a slight sigh, I wonder what that means. I answered honestly but I suppose weapons are far more tangible to Garudan's such as the sword and the gun.
She and Pok seemingly go silent for a few nano cycles before Elkra speaks up, voicing her opinion. "That's no weapon I have ever seen before, how can such a small object be a weapon?" It was indeed the question I expected her to ask, I should have elaborated further at the beginning. I enjoy it when the Garudan's are inquisitive because I suspect they just nod and listen along to my words because of politeness.
Unfortunately, it would be quite difficult to explain how this is a weapon. For the sake of transparency with those who are loyal to me, I will endeavour to explain. "It is a poison that targets one's heart, moulding it to the enemy's purpose. With this the enemy cannot fight back with a sword or fist, a truly dangerous weapon." I finally turn back to Elkra and Pok, now secure in the knowledge the vial remains firmly within my grasp, I gauge their reaction.
Naturally, they are both shocked and fearful of the vial, and both tense their muscles as if ready for battle. To put them at ease I place the vial in my pocket and decide to change the subject. "So Elkra, Pok what is your opinion on the others?" The question needed to be asked, it is something I have taken in stride to always do. Many leaders of my people's history chose not to consult their associates. Naturally, these blunders lead to conflicts. Situations that could have been easily avoided, escalating events. It is our nature to be prideful.
I did not really expect an intelligent answer from them, they are still undergoing education as am I. Yet I am curious about their opinion. Pok immediately starts mumbling to himself in that incomprehensible rambling he does. However, Elkra comes in with her own insight. "I agree with the one called Grisha. Galitor is a threat, the one known as Gem is not, there is pride in his eyes. Yet he does not gaze towards us like a beast, he reminds me of kin and the expectations they have for aid in the coming battle." Ok, I am rendered speechless, that is quite insightful, to call these Garudan savages is the height of arrogance.
She continues with her words, both I and Pok listen as if we are children awaiting our teacher's instruction. "In my experience, one should not fear the muscle, but the mind and those with both are true enemies to be feared." I think I should have further conversations with Elkra. She is more than what she appears, we'll all the Garudan's seem to be more than what they appear.
I turn to Pok with obvious expectation for his next few words, a strange desire to be dazzled again with Garudan wisdom. I almost feel sorry for him since my expectations are high and his clear nervousness is shown. He looks back and forth between me and Elkra. After some time, he speaks up in a confident voice. "I agree with Elkra, one cannot know what lurks within everyone else's mind. We cannot trust them unless we crack them open and see what's inside." Now I truly hope I mistranslated that, and he does not mean that literally. Yet still, his words ring true, the Wokan's here are a necessity to keep control of this vessel and it will take time to educate the Garudan's and myself.
I must rely on Wokan to maintain order and stability. If I cannot trust them then I must learn as much as I can. Determine friend from foe. With my resolve to face the coming conflict, I ascend from my seat and turn to both. Adjusting my posture to appear more imposing, considering our obvious height difference. In the end, we still acknowledge each other as equals. Pok and Elkra always have been respectful to me and to them, such actions will always warrant favour from me.
All three of us remain silent, words were not necessary to convey so I choose to salute both. They smiled with their sharp teeth, which would scare most predators. I was not bothered by it, my species are predators as well, born of bloodshed, died in bloodshed, a horrible bit of symmetry. Both Elkra and Pok salute in the typical Samsiran fashion, they managed to get it right this time, well done.
I then turn back to the office doorway, my thoughts now firmly placed on the Wokan and the Garudan. I decide to hide the Vixorm serum on my person, as I do not trust any location on this ship. So naturally, I was the most suitable location. Well, besides this major issue, I must remain to deal with the task at hand. I have put several things in motion, that must be handled with care.
Two Minor Cycles Later, Ruktan Class Frigate, Auxiliary Cargo Bay
The auxiliary cargo bay was a reserved space for excess cargo the Ruktan would need to haul. One of the directives of this survey mission was to collect samples of planetary wildlife, mine for unique minerals and of course take samples of the local population for study. Naturally, this cargo bay was near empty as Garuda was the first planet the Ruktan had discovered.
Apparently, they were very far in the outer rim of space. Not many populated planets were discovered during this trek across the stars. This sector of space seems rather underdeveloped at least that is how the Demthesian's saw it. I hope further vessels do not arrive anytime soon. Now the reason I am situated in an empty cargo bay, is that there is no training room or gym-type area. Which I found to be rather irritating as every sea and air-based vehicle from the former Samsiran Empire had such sections.
It seems they were not necessary for this Demthesian frigate, perhaps a design choice or they saw it as unnecessary, who knows. Now the reason, I am here is of course, because of the group of Wokan and Garudan horribly attempting to form a unified lineup. To the left is the six Wokan wearing the typical garb of the rank-and-file space soldiers. A typical grey tunic with no insignia, dark pants, and an odd red band on the right upper arm. It was just a red band, with no insignia, will have to query its significance sometime later.
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To the right is the six imposing Garudan soldiers, they were forming up much better than the unruly Wokan to the left. The Garudan were outfitted in the garb of typical Demthesian soldiers except with their insignia removed. Dark red tunics with black pants, the clothes were the only thing aboard, that fitted the large-statured Garudan's.
I was standing before them with my arms firmly crossed across my chest, gazing at them with a cold stare. Naturally, I had never done this before beyond basic simulations. Real-life experience has no substitute in my opinion, and I plan to prove that very fact right now. Both sides were glaring at each other with unconcealed scorn, yet neither side would move. Their gazes subtly glance at the objects of their wrath, but mostly cast upon me.
It was time to begin, with my two bodyguards behind me deterring anyone from violence against me, I began to speak in a booming voice. "Welcome Garudan and Wokan alike, all of you will become a new elite unit under my command. Here I will train you to be true warriors with the discipline and skill I expect from each and every one of you!" I spoke initially in Shahnese before repeating the same phrase in Garudan.
It was a pain, but the successful translation of the languages was not yet implemented in the ship's database. But I have several datapads that could be used to facilitate this translation. That would require my implant to interface with the ship, something far more difficult than connecting to a patrol vessel. With time I should be able to produce data pads that can translate, for now, I will be that bridge between these two species.
Both sides naturally had different reactions to my words, the Garudan's beamed with pride. They had already been staunch supporters of me ever since I liberated them, an understandable reaction. It was of course the Wokan that reacted dramatically, it was to be expected. This batch of Wokan was not the most disciplined bunch. They chattered amongst each other in Shahnese, apparently not caring if I heard their cursing and words of discouraging cross-species unity.
One of them of course stepped forward, likely the leader of said group, or the person with the most respect from the others, thank you for giving me a target. The Wokan was quite tall only slightly shorter than the average Garudan. He was imposing I will give him that, muscular with all four of his arms bulging out of his tunic. His three, no two beady eyes glared at me with I suspect scorn. His rightmost third eye had received some sort of injury, with a deep vertical scar. Perhaps some sort of past battle or overzealous Demthesian's.
The surly Wokan stepped forward, his stopping prompted many of his cohorts to back away, either in fear or respect. The lumbering pile of muscle reaches me in only a few wide steps. Standing across from me without even blinking or backing down. His gaze moves back to the Garudan before adopting, I think a disdainful expression before returning to me.
His voice booms forth with a truly horrendous sound, like scraping a piece of metal against a ship's hull. Not high pitched, sharp is the only way to describe it. His words are in a thick accented Shahnese but it went pretty much like this. "Let me get this straight red devil, you want us a superior race to work side by side with a bunch of savages?" It was a typical question I had anticipated, the Wokan had their pride no matter their past situation as slaves. Of course, they were once the dominators of many species. But those cycles are long past, a concept they seem to need reminders of.
I decide to stand firm with no change of expression, our heights showed a noticeable difference, but that did not seem to matter, my glare said it all. I suspect my mannerisms may be a trigger for the Wokan, they naturally recoil whenever I revealed such a calm and expressionless face. Glaring upon this Wokan stood his ground, still slightly shaken by my subtle harsh demeanour, after some time I spoke up. "Savages you say, I believe that description is such a crude way to describe such a unique species, don't you think?" I deliver my words with near-perfect Shahnese, I must admit I am getting proficient in the language.
My words obviously amuse the Wokan, prompting me to step forward and stand face to face, a minimal divide between us. The intent was clear, the visible flinching he performed only embolden me to continue. "I find the Garudan's a noble warrior race that has a great sense of honour and virtue. It is a privilege to have their loyalty." I nod to the six Garudan to my side, and they all repeat the gesture. They had learned it prior and understood its significance in my culture.
The Wokan grumbled with a new expression I had not seen before. His eyes glaze over, his cheeks engorge and then shrink. His chest rises and falls, and it appears he may charge at me. The eyes tell me a story, the tale of pride in their martial abilities that supersede all. Pride was trampled upon by the Empire and the Demthesian overlords.
He remained in this state for some time, I continued to stare him down, and he then spoke in a hoarse voice. "Noble warriors you say, how could savages measure up to us clutch kin, battle is within us, we are of the Wokan!" As the somewhat inspiring words came pouring out, those behind him roared in triumph, another new trait I had yet to observe, how the Wokan show their pride.
Still expressionless I gaze upon this defiant creature and sense no true malice within him. Merely a pride in what they are, perhaps that pride had kept them strong during the dark times of slavery. I sigh for a short while, before speaking up in a commanding tone. "I do not doubt the voracity of your skill merely your perspective on the Garudan, a view I intend to rectify. What are you called?" I knew his name of course but having him speak it to me seemed to fit with the current situation, I am not sure why.
The Wokan tenses up, not out of fear but a greater sense of pride, before bellowing his introduction. "I am third Pralator, Zatrophos of the Wokan Liberation Army." His introduction resounded with another round of cheers from his companions. He introduced himself with his military rank, security officers did not have such a ranking system besides security and their commander. The Wokan Liberation Army as they called themselves, used the ancient Wokan ranking system of the old Wokan army.
They must feel so privileged considering they are nothing more than a rebel militia. Pralator is a high-ranking officer, below a division commander, more like a squad commander. The third Pralator means he is the third most effective in the current army, the first or prime is the Pralator that has the authority to command all the squads, if the division commander is unable to. I nod to him despite being unfamiliar with such a gesture and acknowledge his rank with a Wokan gesture of respect.
He returns the gesture almost begrudgingly perhaps by reflex. With the Wokan now embolden I proceed to the next phase. I turn to Elkra, nodding to her with the same gesture she had come to learn. We had discussed these events in detail, so she knew precisely want to do. She stepped forward right beside me and performed a Samsiran salute before glaring at Zatrophos.
I turn to the Wokan and speak up in a clear and crisp tone. "Well third Pralator, Zatrophos of the Wokan Liberation Army, please demonstrate your superior skills as a warrior." It was an obvious provocation most intelligent beings would surmise. But something tells me this being before, does not grasp such things. He is likely a blunt instrument. But even such a dull weapon can be sharpened to perfection and put to purpose. A purpose towards a greater goal than lesser minds could fathom.
The pride beaming within this creature enflamed all, as they began to cheer and roar in delight, further bolstering his confidence. His eyes glare at me as if to challenge me in mortal combat. I shake my head eliciting a confused expression from the third Pralator. He clearly has not learned of Korvenin's body language, no matter since I will not be his opponent, another shall claim that honour.
I turn to Pok beside me and nod to him, despite his rather rambunctious personality he amongst all the Garudan recruits has advanced the furthest in close-quarters combat alongside his impressive skill with Junpo. He is nowhere near a master and of course, neither am I, yet I still I believe his skill will be sufficient in this endeavour. Zatrophos glares at me for a time before casting his ferocious gaze on Pok. He clearly understands the situation, something I quite admired about the Wokan species. They know when bloodshed is at hand, almost as if it is ingrained in their DNA as if they were made for war.