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Wolf's Daughter - Ch. V


Pakkrat

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Wolf's Daughter - Ch. V
by Pakkrat

V. Wolfsdottir sat in her cockpit listening to the joking banter happening between Vitaes and the Pakkratius as the three waited out the gravity beams effect. The Explorer was snickering amusedly as the Sentinel she was growing to like recalled that he could see the wing of Defenders all along and that by playing dumb, the Shinwa had held off their advancement. If the approaching Defenders had kept coming just a little more instead of welcoming the trio of escapees into their clutches, Vitaes' might not have had time to charge up his ship's jump field.

"Aha!" said Vitaes with a snicker. "Pakkratius' you have never seen my fastest wormhole jumps. But you may be right in this instance. It was the Gravity Link beams that merely startled me. You had said they were out of range. It just startled me, is all."

The two continued to speculate the angered reactions of the Shinwa and the Sabine. The Sentinels had now known of a Jenquai Explorer helping Wolfsdottir and the renegade Net-7 Reporter. However the news must not have reached the Shinwa who were in waiting.

Wolfsdottir listened and waited for a while. These two men were destroying their careers in helping her. For what, she asked herself. There was no way she could repay the Pakkratius and now Vitaes for their aid. Like her, they had shunned their greater societies, the Jenquai Hierate and the Progen Republic for a little girl in a Defender. At this consideration, she was torn between their humorous attitudes and the sorrow of her father's rejection. Wolf had broken her heart and pushed her further to the destructive urges that the Kaojin had opened to her. And yet, these two men, these ragamuffins laughed and smiled even as their careers were in jeopardy. She smiled a little as she cleared her eyes of her earlier tears.

The trio had been left by the green haze of the wormhole effect in the space above the rich and lush home planet of Kailaasa. It was the new home of the Sha'ha'dem and the Jenquai Hierate. In the distance in orbit above the planet was Paren Station. They fell into formation and made for the docking bay as the gravity effect of the previous encounter wore off.

* * *

Vitaes contacted the station first. "Paren Station, this is Grandmaster Vit-."
"Grandmaster who?" answered the station tower. "Your signal is breaking up. Grandmaster, Paren station is on lockdown. There have been reports from the Shinwa that a Sha'ha'dem Explorer has gone renegade and is threatening the peace between the Jenquai and the Progen. We cannot allow any new dockings at this time.

Vitaes was about to scold the tower when he felt something, someone intrude into his conscious mind.

*Grandmaster Vitaes.*

*First Emissary Kathrada*, replied Vitaes mentally. She must have been looking out an observation deck at his ship to make such powerful and direct contact. He could feel her identity merely by the potency of her psionic contact with him. No other Jenquai was so strong so as to make contact with him through his own mental defenses. Colors swirled his vision as his chromesthsia triggered under her psionic weight.

The First Emissary Merjan Kathrada was the Hierate's elected and appointed leader of both the Sha'ha'dem and the Jenquai people and culture. It was rumored that she was funding the race's reach for the Ancients that may have been responsible for the Ancient Gate that sparked the Second Succession War or more angrily termed the Gate War. This woman had lived through so much history. Vitaes could only guess at Kathrada's true age.

She was the mother of Mordane Kathrada, the late leader of the Followers of Mordane or more recently termed the Mordana. This woman knew the loss of her offspring and the need to remain loyal to her people over her son. It had been Kathrada who had recalled Mordane's pre-Shinwa fleets from above Mars. Her son had the planet locked in his sights and was ready to destroy the Progen homeworld when the recall came from her. But the war had ended hours before by the Progen themselves. The recall drove a wedge between mother and son and he had departed for the depths of space, vowing to return in fire of jihad.

And now this powerful, wizened woman was contacting Vitae's with her immense psionics.

*My lady.*

*Grandmaster, Paren Station and the Sha'ha'dem cannot raise the ire of the Shinwa again even ten years after the departure of the Mordane. Take the refugee deep into hiding along our frontier until the diplomats can reach parley.*

Vitaes answered cautiously, *I feel the workings of the Kaojin in her, First Emissary. And now the girl comes in contact with her destructive roots in the Progen Dog Soliders. What is to be done?*

*Patience and serenity, Grandmaster,* answered Merjan. *Take them to the new lands. I foresee the Progen man will play some part there. Perhaps Ariad, my protegee may aid you there.*

*Compliance amid contemplation, First Emissary,* answered Vitaes. He was not the biggest devotee of the ways of the Sha'ha'dem given his synesthesia difficulties in the lessons and disciplines. But when the mother of the Sha'ha'dem takes pause to contact him, he listened. He had never before had such intimate consult with the First Emissary.

*Enlightenment of the Ancients, Grandmaster Vitaes.*

"Friends, let us depart. The Sha'ha'dem are not our allies in this sordid affair," announced Vitaes to his companions. The public rejection was lessening thanks to the telepathic contact sending from *her*. "I know where we can go. Follow."

He plotted a new course for Dahin sector. The two would need rest at the very least. A meal. Then the skies would call again.

Minutes after the departure of the Explorer, the rogue Defender, and the Reporter, Maeldun's Weft and Paren Station were swarmed with Shinwa Defenders from Ken'shao Joo Li's personal wing. And there were strong words and heated psionic-sent emotions. Yet, Paren Station yielded up the transmission recordings that lent nothing to Sha'ha'dem involvement with the hunt for Wolfsdottir. Defenders were repositioned across Kailaasa to garrison should the rogue return.

* * *

Magister Magna Pakkratius had never before been denied docking at Paren Station, so long as he, a Progen, kept to the more public areas of the facility. As the formation of the two Jenquai and himself raced across Dahin sector to the fiery mining planet, he remembered the various tasks he had undertaken for the Jenquai Hierate, more specifically the Sha'ha'dem and the Sharim. Though it was only a little more than ten years after the end of the Gate War, the Jenquai xenophobia was still eroding slowly. Only the Sharim, an offspring of the Sha'ha'dem and a delegation of the recovery of Ancient artifacts, Jenquai diaspora relics, and the daunting task of preserving Jenquai technology while maintaining trade with other races, had shown him any consistant welcome. Pakkratius had helped bring supplies from other ports to newer Jenquai stations such as the new Ishuan and Menorb centers. Castor solar system was just coming online as the home of the Sharim. Though he found it hard to understand the religious jargon of the likes of Merjan Kathrada and Ariad, but he had done what they asked each time.

His help had come, but not in the name of the Sabine Order and race relations. At the time, Pakkratius had come to aid as a representative of Net-7 News, back when he was a mere field Reporter. He could only hope now as Vitaes led the way through Jenquai space of the Capella solar system that the Explorer had some insight.

The Sentinel also recalled that his younger clone brother had recently been forced into contact and to trust a Jenquai in his own adventure. Was this a trend to become more common, asked the Reporter inside Pakkratius. In an amused side thought, he searched the common thread from the two adventures in that he and his clone brother were turning out to be magnets for these troubled times. Was his genome to blame? Or could there be something far deeper that was triggering such galactic turmoil?

Pakkratius recalled that instead of firing upon the cloaked Shinwa before him and exposing their position of breaching the gravity well security of Detention Center Onorom; he had merely halted their progress without breaking their invisibility. He remembered his hand on the trigger to fire all four of his ship's weapons. He had known that a few derelict Shinwa were to be expected in this Crystal Age. He could have destroyed that lead Defender that was bearing down on them, such was the power of his strange array of weapons and devices. It would have been easy to open up and catch their lead by surprise.

He had stayed his hand. Rather than fire weapons, the Sentinel and Reporter chose his Gravity Link beam and merely paralyze the vanguard's approach. After Vitaes' wormhole effect, Pakkratius had been shunted across the galaxy, finding it funny that showing mercy was far more humorous than to begin a shooting war with the Shinwa. Mercy was far more entertaining than the thrill of victory in this case. What was happening to his humanity?

These thoughts haunted in the back of his mind as the Sentinel followed in formation the others into re-entry pattern over the Jenquai-GETCo mining operation of Dahin planet. The Terrans had signed a joint-operations contract with the Jenquai Hierate, more specifically with the Sha'ha'dem to be allowed to help extract valuable ores from the mysterious lava planet. But from inside the Sha'ha'dem, the Sharim were to search for rumored Ancient artifacts while GETCo set up operations. The Sharim were all to happy to do business with the Terrans and yet hunt for any signs of Ancients in this half of the Capella solar system. Yokan and Kailaasa had already checked out by the time of the signing.

Pakkratius looked out over the lavascape of the planet's surface. Though not as tumultuous as Endriago Planet back in Progen space, Dahin Planet was still dangerous with its indigenous life. It was also rumored among Jenquai that the self-exiled Cenovar Warlock Engineers had gotten to Dahin first while the Jenquai Hierate was still recovering from the Gate War aftermath. The skies were clear today over Tokai Saikatsu Station, a facility that was a merger of Jenquai architecture with Terran systems and personnel of the Good Earth Trading Company. The Sentinel would look out of place here but he cared little as the trio entered final approach to the hangar. He decided to be the Reporter over a Progen from a race of obedient clones. Structure had its place. Here was time to be social and approachable.

Terrans swarmed Tokai Saikatsu around the clock. To them and to Pakkratius' eyes, this was about money. What was that old Terran addage? "Time is money." Thus the Reporter watched everything with a journalistic eye as work continued with the mining operations on Dahin Planet. Jenquai were here and there, managing the flow of ores and the inflow of credits. Economy wore on relentlessly even as the Hierate was trying to take it slowly and scientifically. It was a gentle battle to harvest only what was needed versus the desire to strip the planet as fast as possible.

The bazaar in the station was in constant operations as was the lounge. Spacers, haulers, miners, geologists and philosopher-scientists all made their home here. Out here on the expansion edge of Capella, many others were hawking their political agendas for various Factions across human space. It was here that the Hierate was forced to endure the ideologies of other races and sub-sects on the fringes and in the backdrop of this frontier...."boom-town" was the ancient Earth term for it. Most Terrans just rolled their eyes and went about their business. The fewer Jenquai aboard the station would argue points for a while, but then lose interest in various arguments.

"Ah, son," announced one Terran man who was ragged and wearing a haphazard flightsuit. "Learn th' magic of duct tape and how it can be th' agent that hold yer rig togeth'r." Pakkratius had become separated from his companions by this strange man. The Reporter in him noted the strange apparel and pitch. This Terran did not seem to be an employee of GETCo. Perhaps he was lost.

"I don't understand," answered the Sentinel trying to cut around the Terran.

"Duct tape, Progen, the most fab'lous creation to keep tha' which musn't move bolt' down. Now if you could just look at this here recipe, you can see that this might look low tech-..."

Pakkratius took in the images on schematics printed on white, crinkled paper. Paper? The Sentinel stepped around the odd man, "Excuse me."

With his attention on trying to spot his friends, the Sabine did not hear the man nor feel that something was thrust into his pack at his Doctor's utility belt. "There. Fer yer trouble, Progen." But the Reporter was then beyond the man and paying attention to him.

The Terran's voice was swallowed soon by the lobby's hustle and bustle. "Tell 'em Zacharias Garret sent ya with tha' dere 'xample!" But Pakkratius was trying to catch up to Vitaes and Wolfsdottir, who seemingly melted and weaved with ease through the lobby and into the lounge. One blink of his eyes and even Wolfsdottir seemed to disappear in the crowd only to appear closer to the door. This must have been one hell of a shift change, thought the Reporter.

Eventually, Pakkratius caught up to the two, smaller Jenquai who were already making meal orders at the bar of the lounge. Though his entry was noted by the throngs of Terrans, more than one of the very few Jenquai there frowned at the appearance of a Progen. It seemed to the Sentinel that frontiersmen still had a ways to go before the decade-old wounds would heal.

As Pakkratius began to insert his green DataIdent cube to pay for his meal, he noted that while one Jenquai male had frowned at his entry, he was folding his arms and giving worse response to the silver-white-haired Wolfsdottir sitting down at a table with a meal across from Vitaes. Even without psionics as a Progen, the Reporter could sense the angry posturing and whispers to those around him coming off the incensed Jenquai.

Why would the Jenquai have worse reactions to each other than the odd Progen entering the bar? Pakkratius sat down with his meal with Vitaes and the girl. He knew that this could be a recipe for more trouble.

"Don't look him in the eyes, Progen," cautioned Vitaes, who was seeing the inquiry in the Reporter's eyes.

"I look where I like and collect all I can sense," volleyed Pakkratius.

"He is Daniel Malhause, a member of the Mordana," informed Vitaes.

"The excommunicated," added Wolfsdottir. She knew more than Pakkratius, he thought.

"Even you cannot stand against the might of a single Follower of Mordane, Progen," again warned Vitaes. "Their lifestyle has become one of jihad and they had the lion's share of the Jenquai military fleets when they left the Hierate in shame. Do not approach them. They are anathema to true Jenquai. They seek to draw more to their vengeful and bitter cause."

"They should be destroyed outright," said Wolfsdottir deadpan.

Both Pakkratius and Vitaes looked at the girl. Though the Reporter could read his interviewees as he talked with them, he doubted he had such sensitivity as the Grandmaster next to him.

"Why, young 'Kaojin'?" asked Vitaes. "They are still Jenquai, our people. Their mindset is what is in exile. The Hierate might allow them to return if only-"

"They should be destroyed outright," repeated the girl.

"Enough," interjected the Sabine Pakkratius. "We're here only as a waypoint, right Vitaes? Let's not make more enemies. We have already angered the Sabine Order and the Shinwa Defenders. These Followers are only recruiting here. Let's follow Vitaes outta here."

The trio ate their meal under the distant and brooding gaze from the Mordana recruiter across the lounge in silence and stayed in a shared and rented apartment that night. Their cover story told the GETCo station that they were a research team with a student intern passing through the sector. Pakkratius tossed and turned under the Jenquai architecture and furniture as he tried to sleep. He was wracked by dreams of being chased by Reclaimers calling for his gene-map. Their sailed ships were backlit by a bright white electrical storm heralding their chase from behind. The Progen reporter bolted to sit upright in the tiny Jenquai bed when the stormbolt struck him in the bridge of his ship *Culler* and ripped through his chest.

Breathing hard, he stumbled to the privy and gazed into the mirror. He peered at his reflection. Perhaps he should have not become involved. Maybe he should have just stayed objectively removed from this story-turned-adventure.

Returning to the Bed of Torture, Pakkratius spotted the girl who was sound asleep. She had kicked off her thermal sheet and was curled, uncomfortably uncovered. It banished the regrets for the Progen who then draped Dot with the cover. He watched her silently as a Doctor's vigil as she became more comfortable in sleep. She was why he had undertaken this ordeal. He still had no clue how he would wriggle from this social and political fiasco over a little girl.

The Sentinel returned to bed quietly with silent prayers to Vita Theodora, the Progen Mother in Spirit, that things would turn out okay.
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