Chapter 382 (1/2)
The heavily armored grav-limo settled down with the characteristic whine of depowering grav-lifters.
We like to know when something's working, went through Matron Captain Nakteti's mind, her bodyguard slash friend Major Carnight's voice quiet.
The Major got out first, from where he had been sitting next to the Pubvian driver. Nakteti watched him make a quick scan, then open up the door for her. The stairs automatically unfolded as she set down her wine-glass and stood up. She was clad in expensive cloth, her dress leaving her hands and her gripping arms free. She had an entire jewelry set on her body, the precious metal and gems gleaming and glittering in the lights of the cameras that jockeyed for position to get a good recording of her.
She slowly moved out of the limo, taking her time, not bothering to rush. A hasty Tnvaru was a foolish Tnvaru. She paused halfway down to let the journalist's flycams get good footage of her, then descended the rest of the way to stop at the bottom of the stairs, her feet on the flat flagstones of the walk.
Major Carnight's eyes were dull red as he followed Matron Nakteti into the lavish building. He kept scanning the rooftops, examining the journalists. His retinal link checked the journalists against the master list of profiles he had loaded up, so far masking everyone green.
They were all Pubvians.
The flagstones led to stairs, which led to a door, which led to a hall, which opened into a large hall. Food was set up on either side of the room, music was being performed by a large band and piped through discreet speakers, drinks were plentiful, and fully masked and covered Pubvians moved about with dishes.
The first thing that struck Nakteti was how many Pubvians were unmasked, outside of environmental or hazard armor. The amount of fur on display wasn't scandalous, not by Nakteti's standards, but it was almost shocking after days of only seeing the seamstresses outside of hazard suits.
Nakteti paused for a long moment just inside, letting the servants remove her long gauzy cape from her shoulders and carry it away, accepting a glass of wine that her implant compared the invisible-to-the-naked-eye markings on the clear crystal glass to the database in her implant to inform her that the wine was able to be metabolized by her system and would act like wine rather than something terrible that would leave her embarrassed.
She sipped at the chilled wine, not showing any surprise at the industrial diamonds at the bottom, their perfect clarity making them almost invisible inside the white wine. The glass had small gold lines around the rim that let her know the wine was provided by a heavy industrial concern.
An appreciable and surprisingly subtle display, she thought to herself as her eyes scanned the crowd.
Union leaders, political officers, corporate magnates, consortium leaders, military officers, regional governors, and more.
She choked back a laugh when her implant caught Major Carnight's hand and labeled him: ”Terran Military Liaison - Extremely Dangerous - Approach with Submission” as a warning.
Deciding to move to where she felt most comfortable, she slowly moved across the room, weaving between small groups discussing and plotting. Her shoes had a slight glow around them, spilling light an inch or so to the sides, that changed color slowly as she walked.
Again, she had to surpress an expression of amusement. Her catching shoulders only came up to Major Carnight's beltline, making her only half his size and a quarter of his mass. She was the same size as the Pubvians, meaning Major Carnight strode through the crowd like a giant.
She took the time to examine the reaction of the Pubvians to him. They were unmasked, much of their fur exposed to reveal patterns, dyes, and decoration, many of the females wearing gauzy outfits designed to obvious titillate others.
She knew, down to her bones, that the alluring display had almost nothing to do with carnality and everything to do with dominance over others, including those who did not reach the same standards by cultural beauty norms as the person making the display.
This was a battlefield she was more experienced at. Again, she wished her mother was here. Matron Sangbre was a veteran of a thousand battlefields, leaving behind nothing but allies and wreckage in her wake, who had grappled with enemies in the Consortium Corporate Boardroom even before Nakteti was conceived.
But her mother was trapped on Terra, which had somehow removed itself from the universe to battle the might of the Lanaktallan Empire.
Nakteti felt a slow shiver down her spine at the thought of being trapped between the highly martial lemurs and the unending tide of Lanaktallan martial might.
Her implant let her know who was in the small group, that made a gap for her in their huddled group as she approached to let her know she was welcome, perhaps eagerly, to join them.
She pretended not to notice the way the Pubvians stared at Major Carnight, who's dress uniform made him look, if anything, more dangerous and competent then his battle dress.
Perhaps it was the fact that the tailored uniform, resplendent with awards and gold and brass and warsteel decorations, was in sharp contrast to the utilitarian, almost brutally so, Mark-2 Cutting Bar and the heavy magac pistol at his waist.
Or perhaps it was because he was taller, thicker, and more massive than everyone around him.
”Matron Nakteti,” a Pubvian who Nakteti's implant marked as Doctor Shankaree said, lifting her glass slightly. ”How do you find our world?”
The setup was too perfect, she had seen it in too many of the Terran entertainment videos.
”You leave jumpspace and there you are, fourth planet from your stellar mass,” she said softly, nodding slightly and giving a slight smile. ”My navigator would know more, as I am merely the ship's captain and he is the one who makes sure I don't fly us into the side of a random monolith.”
That got laughter and the Doctor who had asked the question smiled with amusement sparkling in her eyes.
It was slightly strange for Nakteti, who had been only around Tnvaru and Terrans for the last two years, to see someone with completely biological eyes that did not hold a glow, but she pushed the strangeness aside.
”Is it true you have been to Earth recently?” another female asked. Nakteti's implant informed her that the female was the leader of a shipping company. ”How are the Earthlings?”
”Earthlings?” Nakteti frowned before her implant could give her any answer.
”Oh, Terrans,” the female said. ”They call their world Earth and call themselves Earthlings. Or, at least, they did when we knew them.”
Point to you, Nakteti thought. Her implant was throwing up the information that earth was another word for dirt. They used the word for dirt for their planet's name, which makes sense. The dirt they could touch was their world. It makes their world less an esoteric thing, more something they can touch, experience, and provides a deep connection to their world. It would be easy to mistake it as dimness or a cultural quirk.
No, it has to do with how they see themselves. Made from dirt, made from the Earth itself, by powerful deities in their ancient legends and oral histories. They are children of that planet, children of the dirt itself. Earth as the planet's name makes sense, she thought, all of it going through her mind in less than a second.
”They call themselves Terrans or Solarians or Terran Descent Humanity now,” Nakteti said. She knew her next sentence was critical and went the way of conciliation. ”Earth and Earthlings sound much more friendly, they must have been close to you indeed, where we have only known them a little over two of their years.”
The one who had spoke nodded, flicking her ears, as did the other gathered females.
”Of course, it could be the fact that the Terran Military is what my people have largely seen,” Nakteti finished.
Another one, this one labeled as the owner and CEO of a pharmaceutical mego-corp, accepted another glass of wine and turned back to Nakteti. ”So the malevolent universe, as the Earthlings believe, has decided to again test its hated children?”
Nakteti nodded. ”The Unified Civilized Council, specifically the Lanaktallan, who are the dominant species of the council, ruling with the others with an iron fist,” she said. ”One of the Precursor species who have dominated their part of the Galactic Stub for over a hundred million years.”
A younger female, the daughter of a Pubvian female that owned hundreds of medical clinics, spoke up. ”They will not rule a hundred and one million years,” she said softly. ”The humans will wrap them in chains of blood and drown them in the waters of history.”
That got nods and slight looks at Nakteti to see how she would answer, to either prove or disprove the younger one's claim.