Mos Breun waves his tendrils, ordering his soldiers as he leads the captive Tserri walk down the path. Past the mess, armory, and stockpiles. And past the small, sparsely vegetated field where the gor grubs and their feeder plants now reside. Behind and in front of the captives are Bruen's soldiers.

Han, Yosip, Gelly, and I watch them leave from the table at the mess. Bruen and Zek are already on the other side of the portal, preparing the way for the miners. Yosip plans to search the ships for anything else of value, though the rest of us will remain at the base.

The place is much cleaner, though much work remains to be done. Workers bustle about the vast cavern, intent upon their many tasks. Except for a select core of soldiers loyal to Mos Bruen, those toiling must trek through the tunnels back to the hive city each day after work.

A pair of older Sha direct their younger caste members in excavating the winding halls. New tunnels are being shored up, and old ones filled back in. Soon the labyrinth will become useful space, an outpost of the Spanless Empire.

Gelly walks with Yosip, telling wildly embellished tales of his adventures with my Bruen. Han and I are left to our own devices for the moment, though the youth seems to have his own plans.

Han waits until the gray officers disappear into the network of tunnels before dashing off in a different direction. He brings us to where the soldiers carry jar after jar of salt water.

Deep enough to fully submerge an adult of any of the races represented here, the pool is oblong in shape. Several times longer than it is wide, most of the pool is hidden, carved into the stone walls. Only a small viewing platform allows passing traffic to look down into the clear water. Perfect for freshly hatched spawn to hunt each other in. The viewing portion provides no easy access to the water. A short wall blocks the way. Alcoves on either side of the overhanging stone allow private access.

Han sneaks to the side reserved for females. The Sha workers have thoughtfully put up signs in the relevant languages, to avoid confusion. It almost looks like artwork, the way the vastly different scripts contrast next to each other. My people's flowing script, the blocky letters the Selber employ, and the complex ideograms of the Tserri couldn't be more different from each other.

The alcoves are unfinished, rough and without appropriate decoration. The only amenities yet added are the bars set into the walls near the water's edge. There to be grasped during the spawning process, the bars are made of polished stone, carefully shaped by skilled workers.

The facility, though unfinished, indicates that this cavern is intended as more than a mere base. Bases do not need spawning pools. New pools are only dug for colonies. New settlements that might one day expand into new hive cities.

Unsatisfied with his investigation, Han runs over to the male side. "It looks the same," he mutters quietly after a brief inspection.

"Yes," I agree in equally hushed tones. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Why build two of those rooms, if they're both the same?"

"They may be used for the same purpose, but the separation is necessary. It allows for only the best and healthiest to reproduce. Though, it is usually our practice to add more pools as the city expands, rather than to enlarge the original."

This pool is quite small, comparatively speaking, to the one from which I acquired Bruen. Even common workhouses in established cities are able to keep much larger pools, to support the costs demanded by endless war. This pool would force the young together, fostering greater competition. Very few will emerge from here.

"Will they expand this one?"

"Eventually, perhaps," I answer him. The close connection to the capital might allow them to behave as if this were a district of the main city.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The youth snorts, signaling the end of his interest in the topic. He ducks quickly into a dark corner, where the runelight doesn't reach, when a soldier draws near with another jar of salt water. Han holds still, remaining silent until the soldier leaves with her empty jar.

Laughing almost inaudibly, the young troublemaker dashes off. The path leads him back to one of the stockpiles. Stone bricks, cut from the rubble, stand in neat stacks. An officers' dormitory is the next project. Storage buildings are redundant, considering the lack of weather.

Most of the rest of the stone rubble will be crushed and mixed into a concrete later. For now, bags of stones too small to be useful take up one side of the stockpile. He hides us behind the sacks when another soldier slides by, a heavy jar in his tendrils.

Gelly's voice echoes off the walls, "Have ye seen the youngin' around? I need his backpack."

Han stops breathing.

"Maybe, sir," Drev's voice responds. "Lubi heard him by the spawning pool, a while back."

An almost inaudible, "Shit," escapes Han's mouth. Neither of the two on the other side of the stockpile seem to notice.

Gelly's laugh is followed by a light smacking sound. "Knew there were a reason I kept ye with me, Drev."

The soldier makes a noncommittal sound in response before I hear his tentacles sliding against the stone. Gelly's footsteps soon follow, though in the direction of the spawning pool.

After we are once more alone, Han chuckles to himself. "Don't give me away, alright?"

"What do you intend to do?"

"Shhh! You're too loud." The youth crouches while simultaneously stretching his neck as high as he can, looking wildly in every direction. "Just be quiet, Mos."

Well. I would like very much to know what Gelly requires of me. Before I can give voice to my thoughts, Han begins sneaking after the wiry operative. I can't see him through the cameras, but by concentrating I can detect the runic arrays covering his gear. Judging from how he occasionally slows and tilts his head, I think the wily gray officer is aware he's being followed.

I won't spoil Han's fun, then.

The youth is an expert stalker. Whatever he practiced his skills on must have exceptional senses, for he's quiet enough to not register on my equipment. His people's ready adaptiveness and quick learning skills often lead me to forget that most of his life had been spent on a dying world, hunting increasingly scarce prey animals.

Moving only when the older male isn't looking, the young predator darts almost silently from concealing shadow to behind brick and concrete construction. The more experienced hunter betrays little sign that he's aware of his unseen shadow, and he moves as if carefree towards his stated destination.

I cannot see it, but I can imagine the smile on the young Tserri's face. The joys of youth.

We follow until we can no longer hear Gelly's feet falling upon the stone path. Gelly is no longer moving.

Han risks a quick peek. Standing with his back turned, Gelly stands on the viewing platform, looking down at the water. Flexing his claws in anticipation, the young hunter sneaks closer. He steps out of cover, within leaping distance of the older male.

Han stops, crouching further in preparation to pounce. He leaps.

At that moment Gelly turns, hands ready to catch the airborne Tserri youth. A poorly thought-out reaction.

Including the oversized armor suit and the attached module containing myself, Han's mass is much greater than the wiry officer. Metal strong enough to withstand micrometeor collisions and thick enough to deflect radiation, as well as the machinery to move it around in synchronization with Han's movements, isn't going to be light weight.

Though, it must be stated that the armor Han wears is more heavily laden with protective plating than the average Tserri. So, it is forgivable that they both underestimate the relative masses of their two bodies.

Han lands atop Gelly, driving his body into the stone. At the moment of impact, networks of runes embedded in his zelsilk clothing flare with blue and white light. All of the air in Gelly's lungs rushes out in a single wheeze. The officer's gray face drains of color. His eyes widen in pain and his mouth works, opening and closing, but Gelly is unable to speak.

Climbing off of him in a hurry, Han apologizes profusely. It's doubtful that Gelly even hears him. The gray officer struggles to inhale while Han stands frozen in place.

"No, no no no," he murmurs. His claws work helplessly at his sides.

Gelly gasps, finally managing to inhale, then coughs violently. His coughing quickly turns into laughter.

He stands up slowly and dusts himself off, then says, "Yosip must really want ye to be safe. That felt like a shuttle landin' on me." He waves one disbelieving hand at Han, indicating the youth's thick armor plates.

"You needed to talk to me, Gelly?"

"Aye." He pats Han once on the head, and walks a few steps past the stunned youth, who follows after a moment of hesitation. Gelly hides a limp, but otherwise seems fine after the collision.

"Yosip asked me to take ye back to the station. I need to report to Jim and the Matron, anyway," he explains as we walk. "So the three o' us and the witch are gonna craft me a fancy suit. Then I'm to get me pick of ships."

"Can we fix mine up while we're at it?"

"Sure. We'll be removin' yer backpack anyway."