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One Hell Of A Vacation - Chapter 91

2023.06.14 12:06 WaveOfWire One Hell Of A Vacation - Chapter 91

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u/KieveKRS providing QC. Unfortunately, a bug means only half of his comments survived for me to adjust. Sorry if it’s only 50% less garbage than usual.
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Joseph watched idly as the construction group hauled the last of the new ammo for the ballistae, pulleys and ropes dragging the sharpened logs to the slightly elevated platforms that the new weapons lay on with clear firing angles at the gate. Any enjoyment he had with having a primitive artillery battery to target large game was marred by the pack’s insistence that he keep his elbow in mind for labour, leaving him without much to do. He was thankful they were keeping his health in mind, but it was a little overkill to have him sit on his hands after discovering a new wildlife-based threat.
The usual paperwork was managed by Pan and Harrow, Nalah and Sahari worked to ensure the new defences were geared with the ‘greymaw’ in mind, and Jax and Tel were drilling the new combat doctrine into both hunting parties and the security force. Metal was used to reinforce the bows and crossbows for higher penetration, more melee weapons were distributed with chopping in mind, and armour was being manufactured in stages to keep them thick.
Rose and Cobalt quickly became celebrities around the settlement, their contributions to the new greymaw-eye desk ornament in the Grand Hunter’s office earning them a healthy dose of respect. Violet was receiving requests from the other Atmo for combat training, so seeing a few of them at a time sparring behind the base with new safety equipment was a common sight.
Their farm plots have been expanded and diversified based on what grew best, Astra having a rotation of Atmo and Lilhuns to help her tend to them. Ferra had taken to managing the rock-worm area, as well as caring for the new animals.
The wolves were an exception, however—Faye’s leg recovered enough to walk with the newly-leashed canine creatures. Joseph was hesitant at first, but seeing the six-legged beasts sit on command was enough for him to laugh off any apprehension. Given that they had two sets of legs near their haunches, the back set would splay out while the front-most of the two bent as he would have expected from a typical dog. It was a ridiculous sight to behold, and one that only became adorable as the pup that she had rescued copied its adoptive parents.
Perhaps it was because the larger of the wolves had come such a long way, but the young moss-wolf followed their example rather admirably, and suffered stern nips when it tried to growl or bark at the members of the pack. The little warnings turned into full-blown threats when the pup tried its luck with Violet and Joseph, the two adults pinning the small one and making it completely transparent who they thought ran the show. They were right, but seeing such an ingrained hierarchy establish itself so quickly startled everyone involved. Faye was still their favourite person, but they made sure to be polite around those that the deep gold-furred female showed subservience towards.
Besides accomplishing new additions to their defences, they had also expanded the amount of dens for those who wished to have a home with close friends and loved ones, the number of mated groups increasing as the pack continued to be well-fed and happy. A new water tower, new outhouses, and new offices added to the Hall ensured that everyone had a place to do business—whatever type that might be.
Despite feeling a little useless, with the pack unanimously deciding that his minor inconvenience of an arm was to be treated with the utmost care, it was cathartic to have the mundane issues of the settlement be managed with only cursory supervision. The most he had been involved recently was asking someone not to spar with the Atmo until the insects got the hang of how hard they could hit.
The advice fell on deaf ears, but at least everyone else learned the lesson vicariously.
“Amused to merely observe while all the others toil?” Mi’low suggested as she took a place by his side, her gaze fixed on the group assuring that the piled ammunition wouldn’t roll off its rack. Joseph raised a brow at her, the crimson-furred female catching him by surprise and causing the reminiscent grin to fall into a partial scowl.
“Welp, it was a good run.”
She gave him a deadpanned frown. “Something to say, Grand Hunter?”
He returned a facial shrug, shaking his head as a clack of wood had him check that nothing went wrong with the task nearby. “Figured the world was ending for you to talk to me of your own volition.”
“Is it so strange I would speak to the male who controls that which I reside in?”
He caught his retort before it left his mouth, deciding to see where the conversation was meant to go before he fell back into more sarcasm. “I guess not. Anything I can help you with?”
Mi’low smirked, noticing his shift in tone. “Though I was too far away to truly appreciate the disturbance you caused with your instrument the other moon, the following event seems to have been quite the talk amongst my members.”
Joseph felt the soft smile ease whatever hesitation he was feeling. “That was the closest thing Humans have to ‘marking’ their mates.”
“A token?” she asked warily. “Hardly an immutable presence.”
“Maybe,” he allowed with a slow nod to concede the argument, “but they humoured me anyway.”
A long hum of mild disapproval was dismissed with a breath. “I suppose such is the extent of the matter.”
“Just curious about my love life, Mi’low?”
A mirthless laugh escaped her. “I am curious about much, Grand Hunter. Whom you bed is beyond my considerations now.”
He tilted his head. “Now?”
She gave him a side-eyed glance, refocusing as a specifically dressed female approached from the passing crowd to offer a bow.
“Hello, sir.”
“Raine,” he returned hesitantly, eyeing Mi’low as the actress watched the interaction placidly. “Need something?”
The brown-furred Wraith nodded. “A hunting party has spotted a ship.”
“Say that again,” he demanded in an even tone, all semblance of humour evaporating.
Raine tensed, her eyes averting for a moment. “We believe there is a scout ship traversing the planet. The mistress was informed and suggested it to be of our origin.”
He groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. With everything going all over the place, he was stuck on if this was good or bad news. “So your military is here? How the hell did they survive the warp-spike, I thought that thing took out whatever came near? Is there more? A fleet? How fucked are we? Are we fucked? How did they know to look here?”
The Wraith shrunk slightly under the barrage. “I am afraid I have given all I have, sir. Apologies for my inability.”
The Grand Hunter pressed his fingers to his temple, wincing as the pressure strained his arm. “No, it’s not your fault. Just stress on top of stress. Did anyone tell you to find me?”
“I wished you to know as soon as our suspicions were confirmed,” she replied dutifully. He nodded, sighing as he turned his attention back to the defensively postured High Huntress.
“Any ideas?”
She shook her head. “Scout ships are used primarily for surveying new reaches of space for expansion. If nothing else, we have little to fear of a bombing run.”
“Well, that’s good news at least,” he drawled sardonically. “Any idea of how many are on them?”
“It would depend on the class, but the numbers pale in comparison to our own. They are designed to avoid combat, and as such rely on being a small target and nimble. I would venture to say that most crews are lesser than the numbers we were acquainted in.”
His lips drew thin. “Is the crew armed?”
Mi’low’s tense expression answered for her.
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Willin and Tech geared up for what they hoped would be a conflict-free meeting, but the unknown nature of their destination—and more specifically, the Grand Hunter—had them double checking their arms an additional time. Tensions were higher than they probably should have been, but neither Comms nor Nav blamed them.
They landed a bit further away than normal, but the dense forest promised difficulties otherwise. After walking for far longer than he would have liked, and Tech adjusted her proximity sensor to account for the wildlife, they eventually broached the tree line, Tech pulling her Anti-Material Rifle to get a better view of what they were heading in to. The purple-furred female’s expression fell when all she could see was a tall wall of uniform dimensions spanning the length of the settlement, blocking any attempts to peer within.
“Seems like they take security surprisingly defensively,” Tech commented with a sigh, reluctantly lowering her weapon.
“There’s a gate along the far wall,” Willin replied, his tone equally disappointed. Though the fly-by had suggested that there was only one entrance, he figured there would at least be some secondary points of ingress.
“Funnelling in attacks?” she suggested, tossing the weapon back over her back and stretching a leg to ready herself for the rest of the walk.
“No,” a female voice interjected playfully, a seductive lilt flowing from word to word. “That would be because the wildlife is rather...subtle.” A sickening giggle sounded out. “And rather deadly.”
Both of them spun on their pads, Willin shouldering his rifle while Tech produced a CARD to aim at the source of commentary. A gunmetal-furred female lounged on a branch, her head supported by a paw while the other swayed lazily over the side, an odd silver accessory wrapped around a claw. Her tail spun languidly in offset circles behind her, a bemused smile pairing with the lidded gaze despite being at gunpoint. The smirk grew as the two soldiers flicked off their safety.
“It is much less dangerous to know where they might enter from, no?”
“Identify yourself,” Willin demanded coolly, Tech looking unsettled in his periphery at having not noticed the approach.
The grey-furred female’s mirth diminished, her expression evening out. “I believe that would be my line, since you are in our territory.”
“We are representatives of the United Military here to speak with the Grand Hunter,” Tech begrudgingly offered. The female in the tree sighed, sitting up to stretch. Two long ropes protruded from a boxy container on her back that fed into a slot in her pants, though it didn’t seem decorative.
“I assumed as much,” she drolled, clearly growing bored. She waved a paw dismissively. “Put away the toys and we might end this meeting with less pyres.”
Willin paused, lowering the barrel of his gun but keeping it stuck to his shoulder. Tech remained on target.
“Answer my question and we will see to it. How did you get behind us?” the purple-furred female growled, claw hovering over the trigger. The unperturbed one at the end of the plasma-caster huffed in amusement, propping her elbows on her knees and returning a toothy grin.
“You misunderstand, new ones,” she poured with a hint of lust, “the only reason you still draw breath is because my mate dislikes such punishments for what he feels to be reactions of fear.” The warmth faded from her eyes. “If you fire that, I will be free of the restriction.”
“Care to test if you’re faster than a CARD?”
“Tech,” Willin warned.
“I know I am,” the grey-furred female replied with a chuckle. “I have proven it many times, and your death would merely be the latest.”
“Down with your paws where I can see them! That is an order!”
Tech!” he barked, snarling at his crew member. She flinched, reluctantly lowering her weapon. “Until we have reached an agreement, they are beyond protocol and to be treated as an unaligned population. Do. Not. Instigate.”
The female above hummed in interest, unfazed by the events so far. “Agreement, was it? What might you wish of us?”
Having sufficiently restrained his more aggressive partner, he released his weapon to rest against his chest, the strap keeping it attached to him. “That is to be discussed with the Grand Hunter.”
She stared for a moment, raising a paw to smile at the odd ring she wore before nodding to herself. “That can be arranged.”
Willin held out an arm to stop Tech’s weapon from raising again as the grey-furred female landed silently before them, a disinterested expression remaining until the CARD had been holstered again. Smirking, she passed them, calling over her shoulder.
“Do mind not to draw that within the walls. I may be able to ignore your attempt to threaten me, but there are those inside who would not.”
Glancing at each other, they both exhaled heavily, wondering what they had gotten involved with.
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They became uneasy the moment they set foot into the settlement.
Trill’s people were quick to address the soldiers, then subsequently escort them to where they were needed. Sunundra’s people, on the other paw, couldn’t have cared less about their presence. The members of this pack, though subdued, displayed a hint of open hostility, lingering gazes and cautious paws hovering over melee weapons as they carried on with their tasks.
Though not all of the space contained within the walls was utilized for construction yet, there were quite a few buildings for the reported number, suggesting that it had been a while since a Blade had been by to scout the place for such information. The report certainly didn’t say anything about large movable statues just within the gate, but something about it told him that Grand Hunter Trill’s odd curved sticks had something in common with the items in question. Large pointed logs were stacked beside them, bringing a breech-loading firearm to mind, save for the explosive to propel it.
Several large constructions seemed to serve as barracks and warehouses, plenty of dens were placed around, and a number of more specialized buildings dotted the area, the traffic from place to place being far more organized than the other settlements they had visited. Instead of being built up as they went, everything they saw suggested that the locations of certain structures had been planned in advance, making some gaps between buildings look like predefined plots of land waiting for the specific need to arise. Every building was made with almost perfectly uniform boards, curious design tendencies leaning away from typical Lilhun architecture. The spacing between each also lent itself to comfortable passage, easing patrol routes by allowing line of sight. A high walkway lined the inside of the large barricade separating the settlement from the outside, though it was unmanned for the moment, curiously enough.
The passing pack’s gaze followed them as they walked towards a large silver construction two levels high, the grey-furred female looking exceptionally bored with her self-assigned escorting. An expression that shifted when a smaller white-furred female approached, a similar yet differently decorated accessory upon her claw.
As if the previous interaction had faded from her mind, the once tree-bound female smiled warmly at the new addition, stopping to converse. The scent of a defective crossed Willin’s nose, his skeptical look matched by Tech. It was odd enough that none around seemed to be paying any mind to the condition, but to have many ease in her presence was completely unexpected, twitching and nervous members finally moving from their weapons.
After a decidedly unamused glare to her taller counterpart, the white-furred female approached them, bowing politely.
“Apologies for the actions of my other,” the defect offered sincerely, rising to give a deflated smile. “I am Pan, Paw of the Grand Hunter. You have already met Tel.”
While Tech recoiled from the absurd claim, Willin cleared his throat, deciding to take it in stride for now.
“Ah, yes, we have,” he answered hesitantly with a glance to the grey-furred female who had neglected to divulge her name. “We are UM representatives here to speak with the Grand Hunter regarding the eventual occupation of our people.”
The Paw nodded, folding her paws over her lap, the curious bracers she wore clicking softly against each other. “Typically our mate would accept you in the Hall, but due to the nature of your visit and your affiliations, he has elected for this to occur in our den.”
“We will be under your care for the duration,” he replied as amiably as he could, ignoring the shared eye roll of both Tech and ‘Tel.’
“Then please follow me,” the small female requested with a courteous smile, turning the expression to the grey-furred female as it shifted into a more intimate form. “Will you be joining us, Tel?”
“I will,” she replied, her voice surprisingly soft and free of any measure of hostility. A curiosity, but not one to be addressed at the moment.
With a satisfied nod, the Paw led them onward, the hostile gaze of the pack dimming to mere caution with the two escorts accompanying a comfortable distance ahead of them. Several seemed to be blocking sections of the settlement with their poor attempts at looking occupied with conversation, the interactions with others stiff and unnatural. Occasionally, brief glimpses of red or blue could be seen before a Lilhun would subtly gesture and it would slip behind a building. Willin wished to ask about it, but both of their escorts seemed content to talk about the mundane amongst themselves, rather than pay much mind to the soldiers they dragged behind.
“I suppose that answers why the Grand Hunter would be looking,” Tech commented quietly as she slid closer to Willin, the dark green-furred male turning on his short-wave communications with a nod of agreement.
“Comms, Nav. We have evidence of Atmo in the settlement.”
A scratchy reply followed after a moment. “Received, Leader. Status?”
“They’re hiding them, but it looks like it’s because they don’t know if we’ll shoot on sight,” he clarified, giving a glance to a curious insect. The Lilhuns around them ushered it out of sight quickly, but Willin couldn’t see any signs of distress nor unwillingness to follow.
“Bunkers?” Nav asked, their voice professional, if a little worried for them.
“Negative.”
Comms exhaled into his mic. “I have recorded it. Hostilities?”
Tech nudged him as a reminder to keep it short. “Sorry, Comms, I need to go. Pack is wary, but accepting enough, I suppose.”
“Stay well, Leader.”
He smirked as he internalized how routine it was to be in potentially dangerous meetings like this. “I will. Leader out.”
Finished with keeping his crew in the loop, and soothed at having his communications still functional, he turned his attention forward, a familiar construction looming in the distance as they proceeded. A suspicious glance was exchanged between the two UM members, both recognizing it to be identical to the one they had met Sunundra in, down to the hexagonal skylights. Their silent query was interrupted by Huntress Pan speaking louder than before to address them, prompting Willin to apologize and ask for her to repeat the question.
The female giggled, covering her muzzle with her wrist before returning it to her lap. “It is no issue. I inquired as to what you might know of this place.”
“Well,” Willin started, scratching at his ear, “we know that this is run by an...unusual individual.”
Huntress Pan nodded. “I take it we are not the first you have contacted?”
“We have visited the others first at the behest of a Grand Hunter,” Tech explained, pausing her music to focus on her proximity sensor. Her confusion only increased, a subtle shake of her head communicating that there was absolutely nothing they couldn’t already see. Given that she wasn’t glaring at the grey-furred female anymore, that included her, Tel sighing at their response.
“Trill?” she proposed, though her tone suggested she hoped she was wrong.
Willin raised a brow at the second person to instantly guess who was behind the request, though his hesitation to answer earned him a snort from the grey-furred female.
“It is no surprise that he would keep you from here as long as he could,” she complained, though stopped before elaborating further as they reached the alien building. Huntress Pan stopped in front of the door, but instead of knocking, turned on her pad to address them.
“I request that your weapons remain sheathed and prepared to be surrendered for the duration of your occupancy,” she implored softly. “My kit is in attendance due to the nature of the meeting.”
Tech gave Willin a concerned frown. “Your kit?”
“I will reiterate my earlier warning and support my other’s request,” Tel interjected, a cool threat of violence on her tongue. “Do not draw your weapons.”
The dark green-furred male cycled a breath. “As long as no threats are present, we will comply.”
The chuckling from the two females put him on guard as the Paw composed herself to speak first, her tone still friendly, but lacquered with promise. “You would not have the chance to use them anyway.”
The two soldiers exchanged a glance, deciding to chalk it up to bravado. Following Willin’s lead, Tech parted with her CARDs and AMR, passing the collection to Tel. The grey-furred female inspected the weapons briefly as she slung the rifles over her shoulders, sighing as she got to Willin’s pistol.
“You’ve neglected maintenance,” she stated simply, deftly popping out the power cell with a claw and peering into the receptacle. She proceeded to pop several pieces off with a level of annoyance he had only seen from a weapons-smith back at base, her voice carrying the same chastising tone. “Contacts are corroded, calibration has slipped, and it doesn’t seem to have been cleaned since you got it. You would have maybe forty shots before this became an explosive in your paws and you would be left with only your lowers still attached.” A mischievous grin appeared as she put it back together, barely even glancing as her claws delicately reassembled the complicated weapon. “Though perhaps I should have neglected to mention that and instead fired thirty-nine.”
“Are we done?” Tech asked tersely, unamused by the female before them disassembling military armament without needing tools or a manual. Willin, however, was furrowing his brow; the weapon in question was a limited production. There should be no reason why Tel would be intimately familiar enough to field strip it while both standing and encumbered, much less identify something as small as a calibration error without an analyzer.
“Owned one before?” he prodded, curious as to how she had gotten paws on one at all for her to know it so well. The grey-furred female shrugged before tilting her head at the Paw.
“I have owned many weapons in my time, acquired more, and destroyed twice that again, though this conversation is secondary to my other being needlessly patient.”
The white-furred female smiled. “It is rare to see you passionate about that which is not cooking or teasing. I wished not to disturb you.”
“Captivated?” Tel returned cheekily, blinking blankly when Huntress Pan chuckled fondly.
“It is a rather pleasant sight, yes.” The defect regarded the Willin again. “Are we able to begin?”
With a confirmatory glance at Tech, the purple-furred female nodded, though her conflicted expression told of her reluctance to trust the sensor array that had proven to fail them already, even if it was supposedly reporting correctly now. Figuring that not being surrounded by Blades was the best he was going to get—only four being reported in the pack’s possession—he choose to believe that they had simply not noticed her during a nap, Tech’s recalibration of her sensor suite not discerning an unmoving Lilhun as something of note.
It was far from a comforting thought to assume the purple-furred female had made such a blunder, but it was either that, or Tel had somehow slipped past Tech’s notice fully. Somehow, the implication of such a feat being so easy that it had prompted the grey-furred female to relax upon a tree was worse than if they had been negligent.
“We were informed that Blades resided here,” Willin started as politely as he could, disguising his unease with passing curiosity. “Did you perhaps have them observing us?”
Tel rolled her eyes, a tug at her lips betraying the amusement. “There are no longer such things here, save for myself.”
“You are Trill’s kit,” Tech concluded with a hint of hesitance. Willin raised a brow at the assertion, but the grey-furred female exhaled in barely contained irritation.
“I am.”
“Is the answer satisfactory?” Huntress Pan asked innocently, her tilted head and genuine tone disarming the two of them slightly.
Tech stared at her doubtfully, nodding after a final glance at the Blademaster’s kit. “It is.”
“Are you prepared to proceed?”
“We are,” Willin affirmed, somehow comforted and unsettled by Huntress Pan seeming so pleased by them taking an interest in the other female. She turned and opened the door casually, the lack of security within the confines of the wall surprising.
The white-furred female led the way, though there wasn’t anything between them and the large circular room beyond the doorway. Instead of an almost clerical area like the offices of the other Grand Hunters, or the purely functionally focused building they had passed through while speaking to Sunundra, the place they stepped into was undoubtedly a den.
Tables were placed around, checkered boards atop some that were probably games that had been abandoned in-progress. Cups and plates crowded the free seats, suggesting a meal had recently been finished as a group. Large couches were arranged for whoever lived here to converse amongst themselves, wide spaces between them likely for those who wished to sit on the floor for whatever reason, or perhaps for the singular chairs to be relocated for more personal seating.
Most of the large area was free of obstruction, but it seemed the purpose was to allow space for those who resided within to utilize, rather than for any lack of materials in which to populate it. A map inked onto wooden squares rested against the back of the area, several of them covered in symbols of unknown origin or purpose. It was curious, but far from what caught his notice.
The current occupancy of the room is the part that drew his attention away from general situational awareness. So far, the Grand Hunters they met would do so in a secluded office, hidden behind layers and layers of guards. This was only partially the case for the casually clothed biped leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his impassive stare paired with a hint of tension.
Four servants stood around the room, interspersed between a collection of Lilhuns who, though lightly armed, seemed even more stern than the male they made a point of sitting on the aforementioned couches in front of, a nonverbal proclamation that Willin would need to get through them before harm would befall the Grand Hunter.
Two mated pairs sat upon opposite couches, a black-furred male of impressive stature rested an arm around an orange-furred female, the two glaring daggers at Tech and Willin. The other seating was occupied by taller females, their black and blond fur blending at where their close proximity pressed them together. Huntress Pan and Tel walked away from the two soldiers to deposit the weapons on a table across the room, taking their places on either side of the biped.
A soft scratching and energetic clicking preceded Willin’s eyes falling from the face of the fur-less male, a smaller purple insect displaying a sign with perfectly legible Lilhun script. [Hello! I am Violet! It is nice to meet you!]
Tech blinked, her eyes unfocusing for a moment before she shot a glance over her shoulder to see a large blue Atmo clad in iron armour standing perfectly still, its form previously blocked from consideration by the door. Willin checked his side and saw a red one in a similar state of armament.
“Sorry,” the biped spoke with a huff, his accented speech strange, but understandable enough. “Mama’s busy helping Volta clean the bathhouse. Otherwise, she’d be here too.”
Willin composed himself first, offering a mannerly bow before Tech could get over the fact that Atmo were not only openly displayed here, but were armoured enough for the weapons on the table to only buy them time to escape, assuming his instincts were correct. “Greetings Grand Hunter, we are represent-”
“Joseph,” the male interrupted flatly, earning a chuckle from Tel, the female wrapping her tail around his leg as Huntress Pan mirrored the action. “You’re in my den. Drop the titles.”
Tech flinched, torn between distancing herself from the massive melee unit behind her and not approaching the perturbed guards. Willin forced a smile.
“As my contract demands, I’m afraid my title will be all I can provide. If the need arises, you may call me ‘Leader.’”
The male rolled his eyes. “Nice to meet you. I’m assuming my kit has already extended her welcome as well. What is the Lilhun military doing here and how did you get past the warp-spike?”
An extended paw stopped Tech from taking offence openly as Willin processed the claim of an Atmo as the male’s kit in the back of his mind, opting to address that later.
“We are in possession of very skilled crew,” he deflected politely, struggling to gauge how he should be acting. “As for ‘why’, that would be because another of your station managed to find a building the same as this and rig the communications system to send a distress call, though it was destroyed by the attempt.”
Joseph’s eyes narrowed as he exhaled heavily through his oddly positioned nose. “Figures someone else would get their paws on one. Who?”
“In due time, Grand...Joseph,” the dark green-furred male corrected purposefully, eliciting a smirk from both the biped and his two attached females, though Tel’s seemed far more amused than satisfied like the Paw. “First, we would like to discuss the reintegration of your pack.”
The temperature of the room dropped in time with the scowl. “What?”
“We’re requesting you release your pack back to their people,” Tech elaborated, having at least accepted that the Atmo were no immediate threat as long as they were happy to remain statues.
A soft wipe across the tablet the small insect was using was followed by more quiet scratching, the new text shown reluctantly. [You are going to take my family?]
The orange-furred female glanced over the back of the couch to see what was being written, her fangs bared an instant later. Malice dripped from her tongue as her words hissed out. “We refuse.”
Willin held a paw up to stall further comments, addressing the Grand Hunter. “As you are not one of our own, we can not offer you reintegration into that which you were never apart of. As many questions as we might have of your origin and intentions, I will leave that to my superiors when they arrive.”
“That leaves us with the request of allowing us to offer such to those below you,” Tech continued, easing further as the conversation progressed.
Joseph cycled a breath, his odd paws raising to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. Huntress Pan fell quiet, her expression crestfallen as Tel glanced to the table of guns. “We’ll get back to that. Are there more of you on the way?”
“There are,” Willin confirmed plainly, curious as to the reaction of the male. Whatever he was expecting, a contemplative nod was not it.
“What are they going to do about us?”
An expectant air permeated the room, every set of eyes—alien and not—gazed at them. The dark green-furred male drew his lips thin upon his muzzle, pondering what might be the best response to placate them.
“Interrogation. Perhaps clinical studies to determine your origins. The Atmo may be excluded due to another Grand Hunter’s involvement, but yourself would be a prime candidate for information,” Tech answered tactlessly. Willin didn’t get a chance to berate her before the small purple Atmo barked a click, the two previously motionless insects behind them flashing their blades forward, only to pause at the throats of the soldiers. The once-seated Lilhuns in the room rose, three of the servants having moved from vision at some point while the fourth—a nearly black red-furred female—simply offered a steaming cup to the Grand Hunter.
The biped accepted the cup thankfully and took a sip of the curiously scentless liquid, Willin holding his paws up in an attempt to diffuse the situation. A cold shiver ran down his spine. “That is only if we are unable to reach an agreement and your kind is linked to transgressions against the Lilhuns.”
The disturbingly calm male nodded, gesturing to himself as he spoke. “’Humans’ are a part of the Union.” He held a claw up when he noticed the two of them sharpen their gazes. “But, we didn’t have the involvement you’re thinking.”
“Speak quickly, Human,” Tech snarled, ignoring the sharp appendage digging into her fur.
Willin’s paw was stopped as he reached up to activate the short-wave, a brown-furred servant smiling politely with a stack of tablets presented for him. His eyes darted around to see where she had come from, failing to determine it before her words grabbed his attention again.
“The Grand Hunter would wish you to peruse this on your own time,” she explained politely, a paw resting hidden by her apron. Not wanting to chance being decapitated, he accepted the offered items, passing them to Tech to hold. If it came down to it, she could hold her own in a firefight, but he was better in close quarters.
“We will take that into consideration,” he assured as the servant assumed a post moderately closer than she had been before, though whatever the content was, he doubted command would ask for more than the male’s blood to be spilled.
Joseph nodded, both in thanks to the servant, and in acceptance to Willin’s noncommittal reply. “I’m taking a huge risk by showing you it, but if you have a fleet coming, I don’t have much of a choice.”
The defeated cadence tripped the soldier somewhat, his gut telling him that the male before him really was caught with a difficult decision to make. Resolved to actually read over the text before moving on with that particular topic, he relaxed, the two armoured Atmo returning to their less aggressive stance when the purple ‘kit’ quietly clicked a few times. Tech took an extra moment to ease, but the damage had been done. She was perfectly aware how close they had come to losing their heads for her careless speech.
“That brings us to the last of our planned topics,” Willin continued, fixing his sleeve while trying not to seem disquieted by the almost literal guillotine to his throat. “The Atmo.”
The air grew almost oppressive as the group before them tensed, Tel nodding to the two servants who chose the moment to enter from one of the connecting hallways with cups of water to offer the soldiers. Like the previous servant, these took up a position off to the side, presumably to be within reasonable distance if the guests required further assistance.
“I assume you’ve met Sunundra,” Joseph stated carefully, his attempts to seem unfazed failing.
“I’m surprised you know she is in possession of them.”
“What about them?” Huntress Pan queried, inching closer to the purple insect to put herself between them.
“Grand Huntress Sunundra requests Joseph to meet with her regarding them,” Willin explained evenly. The Human fell pensive, his eyes glancing between the two of them, his voice stilled in his throat. “Of course, that can be addressed after the other issues are resolved.”
“You’re not taking my pack,” Joseph growled, the action reciprocated at a lesser intensity by all involved. Even the young Atmo seemed ready to act. “But,” the male continued with a settling breath, “you can ask them.”
Tech glanced at Willin in confusion, the Human noticing and offering clarification.
“They’re here because I invited them, not because I forced them to be,” he answered softly. “If anyone wants to go back, I won’t stop them. As long as they get the chance to choose, I’ll respect it.”
“You wish us to individually inquire?” Tech asked cautiously, surprised that the main objective of their visit was being acquiesced so easily, even if the method was more tedious than they would prefer. “Are you that confident in your influence?”
Joseph shrugged, smiling when the young Atmo nuzzled into the white-furred female that had stepped back to his side. Tel blinked when the purple insect repeated the action with her, the Human snorting his amusement at the grey-furred female seeming so surprised. “I wanted to give them a family. Families don’t lock you up.”
Sensing that any further discussion regarding the Atmo would only ruin the somewhat passable atmosphere, Willin conceded, nodding as he planned out the next few suns of reading and holding interviews with the pack. “Then we will do as requested.”
“That easy?” Joseph asked with a sardonic smile. The dark green-furred male bowed lightly.
“We have stated our objectives. If you are amenable to those under your purview being given reign to reintegrate, then we will humour your condition.” He paused to take a breath, chancing establishing that there would be a follow-up discussion. “We will revisit the matter of the Union and the Atmo once we have browsed the provided texts and you have had the opportunity to think it over.”
“You can stay in the Hall, if you want,” the Grand Hunter offered, relaxing now that the more stressful matters had been shelved for the time being. “We have guest rooms.”
Willin smiled as brightly as he could despite the continued stress of being a single percussive click away from being decollated. “We will decline, but thank you for your extended offer.”
Joseph nodded, signalling the end of the meeting. Without much fanfare, the two of them were escorted out and granted their weapons back only once there was no firing angle into the settlement from beyond the walls, a curt farewell given and assurance that there would be no action against them for merely returning.
Walking back to the ship, their short-wave crackled as Tech initiated communications for him, Nav answering in a nervous voice.
“How did it go?”
Willin laughed, more out of reflexive relief that he still drew breath, rather than any humour. “I think I peed myself, Nav, but we made progress.”
Next
A/N: 2 more patrons getting early snippets of chapters! Thanks to Magos Dominus Videx and someone who wanted to remain Anon! (if you don’t wanna get a shoutout, just let me know.) Thank both of you for feeding this dumpsterfire of a story! If you want to stoke the flames, the link is up top!
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