Of the small group, Gelly alone feels lost within the hive city. Drev sticks comfortingly close to his side, but the others flow into the crowd and are lost.

The Operative tries not to let his apprehension show but cannot help but shudder inside his malfunctioning armor. The place is unnerving. Intelligent beings wriggle past and over each other without saying a word. His translation program is blessedly still running but remains silent. The sound of wet leathery flesh rubbing against stone is all that can be heard, and in such quantity to be almost deafening.

He had assumed that the tentacled aliens came in three basic types, that being all he had encountered. The bigger ones with all the odd components sticking out of them are the leaders, the weird ones in green or gray robes are some kind of wizard class, and the normal type are soldiers. The sheer variety of forms he encounters within the city shatters that presumption.

Heavily built beings with pale, mottled shells wander the streets armed, the only ones to do so if you don't count the built in weaponry of the occasional older Mos. Taller, thinner folk tower over even these city guards but arm themselves only with crooks and chimes. Brown robed wizards are given right of way by almost every other variety, even Mos avoid them.

Gelly almost steps on a creature that looks remarkably like a kalamar, so busy looking at all the different types of Squivers around that he doesn't see the many-armed thing. Its owner, a small flabby specimen wrapped with long strips of fluffy gauze, opens its mandibles wide in preparation to harangue the Operative, but changes its mind upon getting a better look at him.

Both Gelly and the affronted pet owner back away. The owner of the small beaked creature smoothly blends back into the crowd. Operative Gelly Drop has much worse luck.

A loud curse that his translator renders smoothly into his own language erupts from behind him. Gelly starts to turn around but is stopped by several glistening appendages. "You'll need to come with us, outsider."

The large mottled being leads Gelly back to an impressive edifice, favoring a bruised tentacle the entire trip. Drev trails behind silently, drooping, but attempting to straighten his posture whenever the soldier notices Gelly looking at him. The arresting officer occasionally sends pointed glances at the other Squiver that Gelly interprets as disappointment.

Gelly can feel the many eyed gazes of the onlookers as he's pushed inside the massive fortress like building. Like the rest of the architecture, it lacks stairs. Instead, ramps allow entrance into half submerged buildings.

His suit beeps shrilly; the air filters are overheating trying to remove the excess moisture from the humid atmosphere. He shuts it off and opens his visor. The moisture feels good after the long trek through the arid tunnels full of tribals.

The room they end up in is sparsely furnished. With no sign of a chair that could accommodate his form, or the bulk of his suit, Gelly stands beside the low table. His loyal follower reclines in a raised bowl but casts furtive glances back at Gelly often.

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"Me aunt'll love hearin' about this," he comments to Drev after they're left alone in the room. "Strange creatures, unique buildin's. She's crazy for it." Gelly gestures at the walls, inscribed with symbols and glowing with light from no obvious source.

Drev nods his head, a habit he had learned from Gelly. "We shouldn't be here long, I hope. They just need to be sure that you're expected here by someone from a ruling caste."

"Right. How many armored gray visitors does yer city get, eh?"

While they wait they make a light meal of the supplies still in Drev's packs. Little remains but dried strips of meat and shriveled berries only slightly less tough. Drev makes easy work of the leathery rations with his sharp mouth parts, but Gelly can only envy the easy time his companion has as he gnaws at his unidentified meat.

He's still chewing when a uniformed guard escorts Mos Bruen into the room. The guard leaves quickly, with many submissive gestures to the young general.

"Merchant, they send me with good news," announces the general. "As well as an offer of great rarity. There so happens to be a gathering of thaumatists in the city currently, and they have agreed to attempt to form the portal for you."

"Aye, that does sound promisin'."

"Upon hearing of your failing armor, the more crafty of the Jurors have elected to propose a trade," continues Bruen once he has lowered himself into one of the recesses that serve his kind as chairs. He waits for Gelly to indicate interest before he elaborates further. "With your permission, they wish to study your armor. It is possible that it holds new advancements that could be incorporated into our own works. If not, it would still make a fine novelty to place inside the imperial vaults for future generations to draw inspiration from."

"That sounds more like a request than an offer," points out Gelly. He tosses the last of his jerked meat to Drev, who finishes it off in one snapping bite. "What're they offerin' in exchange, eh?"

"Zek has been working on what was supposed to have been a spear," Bruens states, much to Gelly's confusion. "What she has instead crafted is a malleable band. Useless as armor, but capable of translating alien speech into a form discernable to its wearer."

"Well, that's one function o' me suit," concedes Gelly with a chuckle. "But as to the rest o' what it does, how'll they make that up to me?"

"They wish to grant you the title of Don Gelly," answers Bruen. "You'll be assigned a squad of casteless to work underneath you, with Drev as your second. It's purely honorary, of course, as you cannot pass your blood into our pools. The title comes with many benefits, but you would be expected to fight against the tribals whenever you encounter them to earn those benefits."

"Aye, and ye can pay me to eat, as well," gibes Gelly.

Drev stiffens at the news of his promotion but remains silent. At first, Gelly laughs at the presumption of the Squivers, but after a moment to consider he decides he could be getting a much worse deal.

"It is the intent of our leaders that we create a bond between our peoples. With a portal linking our worlds it would be possible to quickly and safely exchange resources or personnel."

"The benefits are obvious," agrees Gelly. "But that don't mean the Matrons will see it the same way. Take the suit, I can get a new one at home. I will need to remove the memory core; me letters are on it."

"I eagerly await meeting your aunt," Bruen answers before standing once more. "She sounds like a most fearsome warrior."

"That she is," laughs Gelly. "She was young durin' the revolt, learnt her fightin' against the Navy."

"So it is her we must thank for their current lack of battle prowess? She truly left them crippled if the worst harm they can do is to shine a bright light at their enemies."