New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Looking up to the sky, Brooks felt a tugging, nagging sensation.

Up there, merely five days ago, the Craton, his ship, had faced a massive threat, and he had not been there.

Jaya had informed him of all that had happened, up to and including her talk with Admiral Brax and Ambassador-General Abashidze’s decision to stay.

He was glad, of course; that the Aeena had not attacked the Craton, that Jaya had performed so well, along with his response teams, and uncovered this horrible secret.  He was relieved that they would not be fleeing, that he would not have to abandon the people here whom he had come to respect and admire.

He was saddened, of course; five of his crew were dead, killed in the line of duty by the machinations of a genocidal species.  That the majority of !Xomyi did not have to die, that their world did not have to end if not for those machinations.  That all of this suffering could have been avoided.

In the past, humans had painted their enemies as murderous monsters.  Only very occasionally was it actually true.  Most of the time it was only a tool of the ruling class, a way of driving fear into people to get their consent for the most heinous atrocities.

In the case of the Aeena, they were still slaves to their own pasts; it was almost unavoidable, but sapient life had the special ability to perceive its universe – and to change it.  In this way, they could escape the traps of thought that had been honed to a fine edge by nature.

Humans had wiped out many other species on Earth in their history, some intentionally and many accidentally.  The Aeena had done the same, but usually with intent.

It was one of the few things that was well known about them, for they bragged of it; they had tamed their world by destroying everything in it that competed with them.  The predators on their world had been terrifying, its environment hostile, they had never domesticated animals and so never came to view some as partners.  They had become conquerors of nature and life.  Looking to the stars, even though they did not need to contend with nature anymore, they still looked at all life and saw an enemy.

Someday, they might grow up, he thought.

The !A!amo had sensed his tension, it seemed, and the space between he and they had grown more distant.

It was unfortunate, though.  They still treated him in a very friendly way when they did interact with him – there was no outward hostility.  But there was an uncertainty, there was something that had formed a wedge between them.

Perhaps tonight would help change that.

They were holding a ceremony, something important.  Knows the World had come to him and told him of it, as well as what was expected of him.

Just after dark, he would paint his body in red ochre, as would the others.  He was also to bring a large leaf, though its purpose had not been explained.  A bonfire would be built, a huge one, and then two of the children would become men.

Bold Child and Wants to Hunt were both on the cusp of adulthood, but as with many societies, there was a ritualistic challenge they would have to partake in.

He was not clear on the details of the challenge, but he would see it soon enough.

For a moment, he had wondered if he was expected to be intimately involved in this, or if he himself was to be tested.  In their eyes, he could see, he might not be considered to have passed.

But Knows the World had said nothing of that, and it seemed that he would stand among the other men.  Kai had also been invited, she would be among the women, though apparently there had been some discussion of that, since they had never seen Kai do anything they considered womanly.

Kai had been amused at that, but had assured them that she was actually a woman, and agreed to stand with the others.

The light was already fading, the hour growing late, though the intense heat lingered.

Thank the stars his suit hadn’t had any breakdowns yet, he thought, touching it.  The !Xomyi had teased him about the strange, well-fitting outfit.  They thought him foolish for wearing it, but he told them that he had to.  With his tone, they’d accepted it, his reasons not needing to be said – it mattered to him, and that was enough.

Rising, he reached into his bag and took out more of the red ochre.  Mixing it with a little water, he began to paint stripes over his face.

He was meant to tell his story in his paint, he knew.  But he was not sure how.  How could a life as complex as his be broken down to simple concepts told in a few images?

He did his best, presenting the Earth, with a crude arrow pointing towards a star.  And then from that star here, to Ko.

It was almost embarrassing, he thought.  Like a child had drawn it – his fingers weren’t exactly the best tools for painting.

He headed out of the camp, down towards the river where the ceremony would be held.  Along the way, he found an appropriately large leaf, cutting it free and tucking it under his arm.

The camp was near the river, but tomorrow they would be leaving again.  The Keko!un had drawn close.

Were the keko!un a threat to the !Xomyi globally?  The balance of power seemed entirely on the side of the Day Stalker, and given enough time might the creatures hunt the !Xomyi to extinction?

He hated to think of that.  But the keko!un were not creatures that seemed willing to reason; to discover how would take months or years that they did not have.  He might send up a message suggesting that genetic samples of the animals be taken, to see if they could revive them later – in a situation where they could be communicated with.

The smells of the water reached his nose, and pushing through foliage, he absently checked the drone network.  Nothing was nearby of note, save the !A!amo.  Good.  He’d hate for this ceremony to be interrupted.

The bonfire, the pile of wood half his height, was already ablaze.  It was, oddly, buried in the ground nearly a meter. The flames were intense and rising ever higher, though, and it would only grow more intense with time.

The !A!amo had split into two groups; men on one side and women on another.

Kai was already down there, and gave him a wave as he approached.  She seemed blind to the shocked looks of the !A!amo women, who were studiously ignoring the men.

He joined the men, who had their backs to the women.  Giving Kai a slight shrug, he turned away as well.

No one was speaking, but they were still waiting.

The rest of the tribe slowly filtered in, and when they were all present, Knows the World tapped two sticks together rhythmically.

They turned, men and women, now facing each other and the bonfire between them.

The two children came forward.  They were the only ones not decorated, even the other children had their own form of ochre decoration.

They approached Knows the World, who held a bowl with red ochre in it.

“Today you become men,” he said.  “You must dance with the flames.  Show it, and us, that you are not afraid.”

He reached out, making a single red stripe across both of their faces, just above their eyes.

The boys cried out battle cries, lifting their arms.

What were they to do?  Brooks was feeling increasingly concerned for the youth, though they did not seem afraid.

They both began to dance around the fire, and the adults on both sides stamped their feet, chanting, though his system could not understand it.

The others all brought out their leaves, fanning with them.  Were they trying to make the fire bigger?  It seemed silly, it was not going to provide a lot of help at this distance . . .

Then Bold Child leaped.  He flapped his arms, gaining height, and suddenly Brooks understood.

They were waving the leaves to give air to the children, not the flames.  The fire was rising, but then so was Bold Child, on the fanned air and the rising heat of the fire itself.  He nearly reached the height of the flames with his leap before coming back down.

Wants to Hunt seemed to have been studying.  He waited until everyone was blowing together, and jumped in time, lifting high.

Then the updraft above the fire caught him.  His wings spread wide, and he was lifted.

He did not fly; no !Xomyi was capable of that.  But his leap took him over the top of the fire, and he came down on the other side, catching the wind of the women there, who were also waving in synchrony.

Knows the World was there to meet him.

“You have done well,” he said, the words nearly lost to the cracking and popping of the fire.  “You have been one with the sky.  But now be one with the Earth.”

He had a knife, and as Brooks watched, Knows the World slashed at the boy.

Brooks jerked, shocked – but Wants to Hunt did not flinch.

The knife cut his wings, starting near his armpit and going outwards in a downward diagonal direction.  His wings were in two, blood seeping from the edges.

Brooks found his heart beating faster, but Wants to Hunt continued to bear the pain stoically.

“Go now, and be a man,” Knows the World said.

The men all rushed to the boy-become-man, congratulating him.  They pounded his arms, and despite the pain he now let show slightly, Wants to Hunt seemed delighted.

“Fire Leaper!” Diver called.

“Great Planner!” Good Hunter declared.

“I will be,” Wants to Hunt said, speaking slowly.  “High Reacher.”

There were cheers, and High Reacher seemed very pleased.

But they had not forgotten about Bold Child.  The group of adults all returned to their places, watching the other young man eagerly.

Brooks knew much was expected of this child.  He was the son of Good Hunter, and it was easy to see how proud the man was of his son.

Bold Child was doing a dance, grabbing handfuls of dirt and lifting them, then throwing them into the air.

It seemed to be getting the crowd more and more excited.  The meaning was lost on Brooks, but the careful movements of the boy, and the way he was letting the tension build was rubbing off on him.

“Go!” he yelled, in time with the others chanting.  “Jump!  Jump!”

Bold Child leaped, in perfect timing with the gusts.

He rose, gracefully, like a bird.

Cresting the fire, he tilted his wings, but not to the angle to bring him down.

Brooks realized that the child was showing off, lingering over the flame as long as he could, wanting to soak in the attention, gain not just their approval, but their adoration.

Don’t, Brooks had time to think.

Something in the fire shifted, the sticks suddenly collapsed downwards, sending sparks flying into the air that hit and bounced off Bold Child’s wing membranes.

He cried out, his wings crumpled, and he fell – into the flames.

His screams turned to a new pitch as he tumbled down the bonfire, down into the lower part.

Brooks found his body felt sluggish, but everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion as well.

Bold Child was still screaming, but he was on the other side of the flames.  Brooks knew he could not leap them himself, he would have to go around-

Kai dove in.  She came down just short of the pit, her arms going down into the flames, her face grit in determination against the heat beating into her face.

She pulled Bold Child from the flames, scrambling backwards.  Even from a glimpse, Brooks could tell it was bad.

The !A!amo women rushed in, their voices high, and took Bold Child from Kai’s arms.  They put him on the ground.

Cool River came over, issuing quick orders for water.  The women rushed towards the river.

Brooks could see that there were still embers on the boy.  He was breathing, but it was laborious.

Brooks approached, realizing as he was almost there that the crowd was parting for him.

They were watching him.  All of them, even Cool River.

The moment had come, he realized.  All of the distance in their behavior, it was because they suspected what he had done, that it was he who had rid the children of their fevers.

And now, they thought he could save Bold Child.

“Y,” he said.  “Emergency help.  Burn victim, !Xomyi male child.”

He knelt next to the boy, and before he had even lowered his face the drone came in.  The !A!amo collectively gasped as it did so.  They had always regarded it as something . . . semi-spiritual, and given it a wide berth.

It hovered over the child.

“He is badly injured, Captain.  I cannot help him without it being obvious,” Y said.

“Forget all the secrecy of before.  Save him.  Do what you have to.”

Brooks reached out, touching Bold Child on a spot that was not burned.  “You will be whole,” he told the boy.

The drone dipped in, an injection going into him.

“I believe I can save him,” Y said.  “But it will take all our medical nanites.  If you get injured, I won’t-“

“Do it,” Brooks said.

“As you order,” Y replied.  The drone moved in to rest on the boy’s chest.  He stayed there only a moment.

“It is done,” Y said.  “Give him time.  I cannot guarantee he will live, but I have done all I can, given the circumstances.”

Brooks stayed with the boy, kneeling over him.  He wondered if this was the sort of time where humans of past ages would have prayed.

He simply waited.  If Bold Child would live or not was up to him.  Shock was the enemy, and the child was deep in it.  He knew that the medical nanites were tailored for humans, and though their specific work in a body could be altered on the fly, their make-up could not.

This was not just curing a fever; this was repairing the body itself, a far more difficult task.

Bold Child took a deep breath, his eyes opening.

The !A!amo screamed, clamoring, rushing towards the boy.

“M-other?” he said.

Good Gatherer grabbed her son.  He winced, but it was clear from even a simple look at his wounds; they had closed.  He was not bleeding, even if his flesh was still charred on the surface.

“Your mother is here, my child,” she breathed.  “You are my gift, my blessing, and I am here . . .”

Knows the World approached, and the group grew silent, watching him.  Only Good Gatherer did not look to him, her eyes still on her son.

“He lives,” he breathed.  “He lives, and he has experienced the pain.  He is Touched by Flames.”  His eyes went to Brooks.  “He was blessed by the Stranger from afar, by No Wings . . . by Giver of Gifts.”

It took Brooks a moment to realize that Bold Child had just gained his new name . . . and so had he.

Giver of Gifts, he rolled the name in his head.  It should not be meaning this much to him, a part of his rational mind told him.  Yet he felt . . .

His knees felt weak, and he sat down on the ground.

He heard Knows the World speaking to Kai.  She was Reaches Into Flames.  She seemed pleased with the epithet, but it did not hit her as it had hit him.

He looked at the others, and they looked at him.  On their faces was love, friendship.  Was it worship?  He hoped not, he did not think so.  Something negative that had grown, a suspicion that they could not understand the reason for being secret, had come forth.

Now they knew, despite how strange he was, how far he had traveled to be here, he had come to help them.

---

< Ep 12 part 50 | Ep 12 part 52 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

It took the Craton the better part of twelve hours to maneuver itself closer to the moon they called Omen.

“We cannot get closer than 20,000 kilometers,” Ji-min Bin told Jaya.  “Any closer and we face too high a possibility of an impact with something big enough to hurt.”

They came in towards the Moon, and at this distance it was still just a speck.

“Projected loss if we send in probes?” Jaya asked.

“Within acceptable levels, Captain.  But any loss of probes could prove to be a problem further down the line if-“

“Send the probes,” Jaya ordered.

A frown adorned the woman’s round face.  Her name was Aminia Smith, Cenz’s Vice Commander, and standing in for him while he was on Ko.  She was highly competent, but a little too risk-averse, Jaya thought.

“Probes launched.”

One probe was lost before reaching Omen, after two other pieces of rock smashed into each other, pelting it with their debris.  But the other fifteen made it without incident.

“Scanning the moon,” Smith said.  “Scan will take approximately twenty minutes.”

“If we should find something-” Jaya began.

“Ugh . . .”  The surprise in Smith’s voice and face was unmistakable.

“What is it?”

“We’ve found something, Captain.  There’s . . . there’s a structure on the moon.  It’s in something of a valley, but it’s just there!  It’s not even shielded against scans.”

“Show me,” Jaya said.

The probes were moving fast, and the clip was less than a second, just a glimpse while passing a crater.  But even in that brief view, it was clearly artificial.

Enhanced scans appeared, freezing frames and building a three-dimensional view of the structure.

It was metal, well-built, nestled into a crag within the crater.  The outside was unadorned, just a plain grey.  There wasn’t even much sign of damage from impacts.

“Is there anything in it?” Jaya asked.

“We can’t tell, Captain.  Its walls are thick, but that shouldn’t matter much against impacts . . . however, the location it’s placed in is very safe.  The moon is geologically stable for much of this area, and since it’s in this crack inside a crater, it’s hidden from most impacts.”

“Finish scanning the whole moon,” Jaya said.  “I want to know if there are other buildings.”

“Could still miss other structures,” Cutter said.  “Only luck this one was seen.”

“What is your recommendation, Chief Engineer?” Jaya asked.

“Send a team.  Investigate structure.  Dangerous, yes.  But best way to answer questions.”

Cutter was looking at her almost imploringly, and Jaya was surprised to see the Bicet so desperate.

“Navigation,” she said.  “Could we get teams down there?”

“I think so, Captain,” Ji-min Bin answered.  “It’s a short transit, and the shuttles have point-defense weaponry.  If we approach from the direction the moon is heading, we can avoid the latest debris coming off.  And since this isn’t far off the pole – yes.  It’s dangerous, but I think it’s something that can be risked if you feel it’s important enough.”

Jaya clicked on a line.  “Lt. Commander Pirra, prepare teams two and three for a drop onto the moon.”

Pirra came back immediately.  “Captain, request permission to take Response Teams One and Two.”

“Is Response Team One prepared?”

“Yes, Captain,” Pirra replied.  “I’ve got an all-clear, and so does Najafi.  Only Guoming is still recovering.”

“A team of eight.  Do you feel that’s sufficient?”

“Yes.  We still have two Fire Teams.”

Jaya considered it for a few moments.

“Very well, Lt. Commander.  Suit up your team, and prepare for moon drop.”

---

< Ep 12 part 45 | Ep 12 part 47 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Captain, we still cannot get any comms traffic from the surface,” the call came.

Jaya was not happy.

“Get their position fixed!  And find out who the hell are firing on them!” she called.

She wanted to pound her fist into the arm of her chair.  The Craton had launched satellites to watch their team, and she was seeing a birds-eye view of the field.

Which told her precious little.  They could see the tracer rounds, they had seen a handful of Pirra’s team moving in the tents, but everyone else was walking under the cover of heavy canopies.  Their sensors could still pick them out, but only vaguely – and a heat signature didn’t tell if it was friendly or hostile.

And some of them, she thought, were shielded even from their sensors.  Which meant they had prepared positions, designed to be hard to find.

“Captain!” a shocked call came.  “We’re getting a signal!”

“Finally,” Jaya said.  “Put it through.”

“It’s not a radio call – it’s a laser signal.”

The screen shifted, focusing on a position, the cluster of heavy boulders.

A lone figure was there, their faceplate opened.

The computer identified it as Commander Pirra.  Enemy fire was slamming the position, the coilgun ripping through, but missing Pirra.

She had taken the position to signal them, Jaya realized.  A laser transceiver was placed in front of her looking like a cartoonish stubby model rocket, its beam shimmering in the dust-filled air, carrying with it a simple communication.  One that might cost her her life.

“It’s a basic code, Captain, but she’s relaying their disposition and that of the enemy’s!  She’s got approximate locations for their emplacements.”

“Feed it in,” Jaya ordered.  “Once we know who’s who, ready a splitter shell for the enemy troops.  Target their entrenched positions with kinetic spikes – and then rain hell on them.”

“Yes, Captain!”

---

“We’re almost enveloped!” Kiseleva yelled, as enemy fire continued to pour onto them from new angles.  The enemy now had three positions on them, and they could scarcely lift their heads.

Sticking up her gun and firing blindly, Kiseleva let the sensor on it feed into her helmet, showing her where the enemy fire was now coming from.

A round hit her gun, and it jumped in her grasp.  Yanking it back down, she saw that it was a ruined mess.  Letting out a curse, she threw the weapon away, pulling her sidearm.

She did know the enemy positions, though.  “Grenades, there!” she yelled, chopping her arm in a direction.

Three others in earshot pulled grenades, and they threw them together.  The rippling explosions went off, throwing up dirt.  It might slow the enemy advance. The blast wave hit her like a fist, and she rocked forward.

She looked up again at Pirra, insanely exposed on the rock.  Half of it had been blown away by enemy fire, and with their new angles, Pirra had precious little secure space left.  Her legs were pulled up, one arm around them, head down, while she kept the laser in place with the other.

God damned fool, Kiseleva thought in admiration.

Pirra felt more rock chips hit her armor, leaving marks but not penetrating.  She kept her face down – without her face shield, any one of these chips could incapacitate or even kill her.

She didn’t realize she’d been hit, but suddenly she found herself rocked, almost knocked on her side.  In a daze, she looked down, her leg burning.

No, not burning – she’d been hit.  Her right leg, a round had hit, penetrated her armor – and her leg.

Gulping for air, she fought for calm, bunching her hand into a fist and pounding it into the rock.  Rage would be better than fear, she knew innately that she had to keep her head and her spirit-

Then she saw the flash in the sky.

Her gaze was drawn up.

The shell streaked like a meteor, then blossomed open like a flower as it split.

“COVER!” she screamed.  “HEADS DOWN!”

She threw herself off the rock, as the first bombardment from space came in on their enemies.

The ground beneath their feet heaved like a wounded animal, reminding her of the giant beast that they’d killed earlier.

But these shells were thousands of times more energetic than their bullets.  Each strike hit with the power of a bomb, no explosives needed, just the colossal energy of an object travelling at tremendous speed.

Then, she felt more than heard the kinetic spikes impacting.

Sky, let them hit true on those bunkers, she thought, knowing they must be out there, holding that fucking coilgun that had been tearing away at them this whole time.

As the explosions and impacts faded, she was left hearing nothing, feeling nothing.

Was she deafened?  For a moment she thought so, but she wasn’t even sure.  But there was no enemy fire incoming.  Looking up, she saw no shots coming in on her old position.  Looking down towards the others, she saw no dirt flying up around them.

Kiseleva was looking at her, her mouth agape and looking as stunned as Pirra felt.

She didn’t know if her words would carry, and Dessei couldn’t be lip-read.  Pirra raised her arm, signalling with hand signs.

Attack.

Kiseleva picked herself up.  “ON ME!” she yelled.  “ATTACK!  URRAAAAAAAH!”

She launched herself, and the rest of the squad charged with her.

Pirra rose, her leg then giving away, sending her tumbling back down to the ground.  Her hand, she realized, had blood on it.  Her blood.

She heard firing again, but it only sounded like the weapons of her side.

Dragging herself up towards the position where Hesson was still sitting, tending to the wounded frantically, she looked up.  She couldn’t get back up on the rock for the clearest signal, but hopefully they’d still see this.

Setting up the laser, she signaled again; medical assistance required, multiple wounded and KIA.

---

Jaya watched, scarcely breathing, as Response Team One charged.  Some of them could be seen from above, even if the enemy was still under cover.

There appeared to be no more fire at them.

“It seems like they were good hits!” someone yelled.

She’d believe it when she saw it.  Not a moment sooner.

“Captain!” Shomari Eboh said.  “The jamming has disappeared!”

“Connect me to Commander Pirra!” Jaya snapped.

The line opened, and Pirra’s voice came through.  It sounded strange, lacking the pitch and reverb of coming from a sealed helmet.

“The enemy have surrendered, Captain,” Pirra said, her voice stiff.

“We received your call of casualties,” Jaya said.  “How many?”

“We have . . . uh, at least three KIA,” Pirra said slowly.  “And two- no, three wounded.”

Jaya’s mind raced.  “And are you among them, Commander?”

“Yes,” Pirra replied after a pause.

“We have medical teams on their way down, along with Response Teams Two and Three and heavy combat drones.”

“Be sure they have facilities for prisoners,” Pirra said.  “We’ve got ten alive, including . . .” she swallowed hard.  “One of their commanders.”

The pauses were causing Jaya alarm.  Just how badly wounded was Pirra?  “Just hold on, Response Team One,” Jaya said.

“Well, Captain,” Pirra replied.  “I’ll do my best.”

---

< Ep 12 part 40 | Ep 12 part 42 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Two hours later, Apollonia sat in the waiting room outside of Cenz’s office.

She’d come from the medical suite, where Zey had treated her ankle.  She’d sprained it, and on top of that she’d gotten a long cut, something poking into the suit so hard as she’d fallen that it had cut her skin without even penetrating the cloth.  Other than that she only had small cuts and bruises.

Zey had not chewed her out.  But the woman’s silence had been almost as bad.

She could hear stern voices from the office.  The walls were normally soundproof, so part of her imagined that they were letting some of it through intentionally, to help her get the feeling that she was about to be reprimanded.

Cenz always sounded pleasant.  But as he talked to Alisher, tearing him down, it was not pleasant.  Calm, as always, but there was a hard edge she had never heard before.

It was not fair.  Alisher had not done anything wrong.

The thought of being punished, their disappointment, was bad enough.

But in the face of what had almost happened, it felt like nothing.

She’d stared death in the face.  The smell of it, the disgusting, wrinkled skin, was stuck in her memory.  From a distance, she realized it would have been every bit the magnificent creature she imagined.  But up close she’d seen the parasites, the flies, the filth, the stained teeth and the imperfections of a living thing that fitted not at all the magical ideal in her mind.

Hadn’t it been not long ago, on Hell Rock, that she’d wanted to die?  That when faced with the possibility of being spaced, she’d almost gone for it.

Since then, she realized, she’d actually learned that life didn’t always suck.  That it could be good, and that she liked it.  And then she’d almost thrown it away anyway, just out of a stupid childhood obsession.

The door to the office opened, and Alisher stepped out.  He glanced to her, not seeming angry, though still very serious.  He left, then, and she knew she was up.

Going to the office door, Cenz was watching, his face screen off for once.  The lack of the slightly-goofy changing electronic face made him seem more alien and imposing, as the only true bit of “him” she could see was a glimpse of the polyps in their rocky body in the neck of his water suit, which was transparent.

“Apollonia Nor, please sit.”

She stepped up next to the chair.

She felt afraid again, but then thinking of the creature, mere meters away, that could have ended her in a heartbeat, she felt less afraid.

But she didn’t feel less guilty.

“With your permission sir,” she said.  “I’d like to stand.”  She did her best job coming to attention and saluting.

Cenz paused to consider this.  “Very well, Specialist Nor,” he said, using her title.  “I would like to know what went through your head to cause you to make such a decision.”

She considered.  “I have no excuse, sir.  May I . . .” she trailed off, swallowing.  “. . . speak freely?”

Cenz considered, leaning back.  His voice was a warning as he spoke.  “Very well.  I hope you have considered your words carefully.”

“Sir,” she said, “I would like to absolve Lt. Rasulov of any wrongdoing.  I acted entirely on my own, making my own bad decisions, and they should not reflect on him.  I . . . I screwed up.  I just wanted to go look around, and I fell down the hill.  I didn’t mean to put my life or anyone else’s life in danger.  I know pulling the drones to me must have risked the others.”

Cenz moved back slightly, in seeming surprise.

“I take all of the blame, and I hope I can be the only one to receive any punishment.  Whatever you deem appropriate I accept, sir.  Because I fucked up bad.”

She realized her curse, felt a thrill of fear, but then decided; fuck it.

She meant every word.  She felt better for saying them.

But she still didn’t forgive herself.

Cenz spoke.  “You seem to have some understanding of what you did,” he said.  “That it did not simply affect you, but your entire team.  I will be relaying all that has transpired up to Captain Jaya.  She may have more to say to you.  For now, you are confined to base.  Your access to entertainment services is revoked for three days.”

The door opened behind her.  Cenz tilted his head.  “Now go.  I would tell you to reflect on what has happened, but I suspect you will be doing much of that.”

---

< Ep 12 part 35 | Ep 12 part 37 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Captain,” Kai’s voice came.  “You’re wandering.  Do you need some help?”

There was a pause before he answered.  “No,” he told her.

Kai sighed.  Brooks’s moodiness was always a factor, but being down here seemed to have made it worse.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I needed to take a walk,” Brooks replied shortly.  Then, after a pause he spoke again.  “Do you know where there might be red ochre around here?”

“What?”

“Iron-rich mud,” he said.

“Scanner drones have marked some out, actually.  The iron is detected easily from its magnetic resonance.  Why?”

“Just send me the location.”

“Should I go and be in contact with the !A!amo while you’re on your search?” she asked, letting a little exasperation through in her voice.

“That’s a good idea.  You should be spending time with them, too.  Just bear in mind that they’re upset from the death of Hard Biter.”

Kai considered that.  “Are you upset?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.  “Losing a friend hurts.”

A friend, she noted.

It was natural to get close to these people, she thought.  Necessary, even.  She hadn’t spent as much time with them as Brooks had, but she already got along with them.

What was going to happen, though, if when it was time to leave, the !A!amo refused to go?

She knew what it was like to lose your charges.  To lose your team.

All those years ago, she’d lost both.  It had been determined not to be her fault, she had made the correct calls.

It didn’t make it any easier to deal with, she thought.  She could tell herself that every night – for years she had done just that.

But it still hurt.

And she wondered if it would be the same here.

Discipline was a tool that needed to be kept honed, she reminded herself.

Shoving her self-pity away, she knew she could not let those shadows of the past dim the present.  Get too desperate to hold onto what was before you, you’d lose it even easier.

The !A!amo wouldn’t understand it if she became clingy.  She had to keep her focus on the mission at hand.

She rose, slinging her rifle across her back.  She’d set her drones to study every aspect of the attack by the Day Stalker.  They would be watching for them in the future with better results.

Next time, she would be ready, aimed and in position to pull the trigger on the thing before it hurt one of these people.

---

The !A!amo were gathered in a cluster around a tree.

The tree was near their camp, it was a short thing, its branches spreading out only three meters from the ground instead of the dozen or more from most of the tall trees of the jungle.  This made it special to the !A!amo.

At its base, a pit had been dug, the size and shape of a grave.

It was an empty, lonely hole, Brooks thought.

Long ago, humans had interred their own dead in graves like this.  There were few other options – cremation too difficult without a proper oven.  A sky burial – leaving the body exposed to the elements – was an option, but rarely chosen.

“Return to the Earth, old friend, wherever you are,” Knows the World said.

One of the women let out a howl, Young Mother.  She threw herself down, and with the motion flung a handful of small shells into the hole.

They were hundreds of kilometers from the coast, Brooks thought.  These shells must have been traded for from other groups and made their way here.  They were one of the few things besides food that was of value.

Now given to the dead.

Others threw their own gifts into the hole.  Some, carved stone heads for spears.  Others, leather bags or thongs.

It went around the circle, until it came to him.

The !A!amo watched him, pensively.  There was a tension.

He sensed Diver next to him stirring.  They did not know if he knew what to do, if he would partake, and it made them uneasy.

He stepped forward.

“I knew you a short time, Friend,” Brooks said.  “I give this, to remember you; the blood of the many animals you hunted.  May your spear ever bite deep.”

He threw the compacted sticks of red ochre into the hole.

There was a feeling of surprise through the group.  For a moment he feared he had done something taboo.  Perhaps red ochre was not for the dead?

But the moment passed, and in its wake, he sensed relief from the !Xomyi group.

Diver stepped up next, offering his own gift.

When they had come all the way around, back to Knows the World, there seemed an end to it.  Members of the group began to drift away, talking lightly – but most going back to mundane acts.

They felt it just as much as anyone else, he thought.  As much as a human or Dessei or Sepht mourned the death of a friend.

But life did not end with the death of someone else.  They still had to eat, to live.

Knows the World was the only one still near the grave.

Brooks approached him.

He saw Diver watching him, wondering again if it was best to just leave the wise man to his grieving.  But he had to take this chance.

Diver did not move to stop him.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said to Knows the World.

The !Xomyi did not look up.  “I have had seven sons and two daughters.  I have laid five sons and one daughter to sleep in the earth.  All who died but this one never lived long enough to take their adult names.”

He shook his head.  “I once felt blessed with so many children, but now I feel it was a curse.  Losing them is hard and I hurt.”

Brooks was shocked at that death rate; six out of nine dead?

“No words are strong enough to match your loss,” Brooks said.  “But I say anyway that I feel sorrow for your pain.”

Knows the World’s head inclined slightly in acknowledgement.

“This son was not born to me but he became mine, my eldest son in whom I was very proud.  Now, he has gone to the Sky Child.  He gazes down on us and I hope he smiles.”

Brooks looked up at the moon.  It seemed still and harmless now.

“Sometimes danger comes from unexpected places,” Brooks said.

Knows the World peered at him, but said nothing in return.

“There may yet be dangers to come,” Brooks said.

“There are always dangers,” Knows the World said, almost puzzled.

“If something comes that threatens all your people,” Brooks said,  “I may be able to help.”

For a moment, he thought he had made an inroad.  Knows the World looked at him, and there was a hint of understanding in his eyes.

But then it closed off.  “I have lost too much today.  Thank you for your gift.  My son would have appreciated the red ochre, you did him great honor.”

He then closed his eyes, putting his arms and wings over his head.

Brooks knew the conversation was ended, and he turned away.

---

< Ep 12 part 30 | Ep 12 part 32 >

Oops, sorry, a little late today!

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Brooks had found it best to sit out of the way.

The !A!amo camp was a sort of decentralized chaos when everyone was present, with members going about whatever business they needed to do on their own prerogative.  When it came to a group task, their neighbors simply helped; in turn, they would be helped when they needed it.

When he’d sat near the center of their collective huts, he often found himself in the way of various activities.

None of them made a comment; they didn’t even seem annoyed as he blundered like the giant he was in comparison.  They just worked around him, and when he moved they took over the space he’d made available.

He’d wanted to help, but they often told him he need not bother.  He lacked the necessary skills for anything except carrying heavy objects, anyway.

So there was no score-keeping, for either him or amongst their group, but there were still the unbreakable limits of their technology.  Food was the primary resource they valued, because of biological necessity.  They shared, and their children were fed first, which he was glad to see.

For many animals, it was simply a calculation of investment, and they would leave their young if the danger was too severe.  After all, dead parents would mean the young died, whereas living parents could always make more babies.

But sapient beings tended not to do that.  Some might; but it was common for parents to sacrifice much to give their children all they could.

It also bespoke a strong amount of expectation in the group.  If parents died, leaving children behind, the others could take them in.

He did not see that here, yet, but there was data on it from other !Xomyi groups.  He fully expected it would be the case here.

The men had been busy preparing for the hunt, he noticed.  They’d huddled together last night, in a sort of ritual that he did not rightly feel he could put himself into yet.  Knows the World had led them in a chant, mimicking a hunter, while another had dressed as an animal.

He presumed it represented the hamomo they wanted to kill.

He could understand, in a sense.  They were acting out what they wanted to happen, impressing the idea into their own minds – and perhaps hoping to impress it onto the world itself.

While he had not been in their ritual, he was going to ask if he could go with them today.  At least to observe.

It could be dangerous – not only for the wild animals, but the risk of angry hunters turning on him if they could not find anything.  It was always possible the !Xomyi might look to him and think he could be food, or just blame him for bringing some sort of ill-fortune.

That intellectual possibility was in his mind, but he did not believe it.  Cannibalism could always occur in any population, but they still were unsure if he was even mortal like they were, no matter how often he said he was not a spirit.

Tracker’s hut was nearest to him.  He stepped over, leaning around the side.

“I would like to come on the hunt,” he told Tracker, who had a pile of darts, each about half a meter long, in front of him.  He had been examining them, picking which he wanted to bring.

He looked up at Brooks as he spoke, though.  “Ask Hard Biter.”

“Is he a hunt leader?” Brooks asked, unsure if such a hierarchy even existed.

Tracker seemed confused by the question.  “He was the first to speak of the hunt.”

“You were the first to speak to me of it, yesterday.  Are you all right with me going?”

Tracker shrugged, seeming indifferent, but smiled a moment later.  “You may come, spirit,” he said, his voice teasing.

Brooks smiled back.

“I will talk to Hard Biter, too,” he said.

He went over, finding that Hard Biter was with his family.  He did not know if the !Xomyi really had a concept like marriage, but they did take partners in a similar fashion.  Hard Biter’s wife had died some years ago, he’d learned.  Her name was taboo to speak; speaking of the dead other than through their relation to you, such as father, mother, son, or friend, was not acceptable.

Hard Biter himself was an outsider who had come into the group, the woman he married one of the daughters of Knows the World and Old Mother.

They were not with him now, just his two children; Fast of Wing, a fiery young man, and Causes Trouble, a child he’d guess was equivalent to a human eight-year old.

Brooks made sure that his approach was noticed – how could it not when he was so big? – and stood silently, waiting for Hard Biter to accept his unspoken request for words.

Looking at him, Hard Biter opened his arms slightly, a welcoming gesture.

“I would like to go with you on the hunt,” Brooks said.

Hard Biter considered a few moments.  “All right,” he said.  “Wait.  And we will come for you when we are ready.”

Brooks nodded, and Hard Biter turned away.

Well, that was it, Brooks thought.

He went back to the edge of the camp, prepared himself as best he could, and waited.

The hunters gathered not long after.  They spoke softly to each other, huddled in a circle.  Once, Tracker peered over at him in a way that seemed ominous.

Brooks wondered if there was an argument over his coming.

They broke up, and began to come towards him as a group.

Hard Biter stepped up towards him.  He had a bag.

“No Wings, you have not hunted before,” he said, his voice raised.

Brooks prepared to defend his ability in words, but Hard Biter stepped closer, pushing the bag into his hands.  “You cannot hunt without this.  It is very important.”

There was great expectation from the others.  Brooks found his heart beating, and he opened the bag carefully.

Inside was a pot.  It was painted, decorated nicely.  Was the object in it?

He started to draw it out.

“This pot holds our hopes for good hunt,” Hard Biter said.  “Protect it!”

Brooks nodded solemnly, wracking his brain for comparable rituals in human or known alien cultures.  Was he supposed to bring the pot with him?  Or stay here, and by holding it he would ritualistically be a part of the hunt?

It was a tight fit out of the bag, and he grasped the lip, pulling.

The pot broke.

It cracked apart completely, not just into two pieces, or a chip coming off, but fairly disintegrated.

His jaw dropped in horror – and then the laughter began.

The troop of men were howling, holding their bellies and turning away, Diver even bending over as if short of breath.

“Ah, silly spirit, you are always fooled by a pot!” Hard Biter said, his normally serious face split in great amusement.

Brooks was still in shock, not in horror now, but only by how well they had fooled them.

This pot had no value, he realized.  It was an old piece of broken junk.

It hit him that all this time, he had been watching them, they had also been watching him.  They had seen the seriousness he treated them with; treated everything with.

And so they had punked him good.

Tracker slapped him on the arm, a comradely gesture they shared with humanity.  “Come, come, No Wings, now it is time to hunt!”

---

< Ep 12 part 25 | Ep 12 part 27 >