“You’ll learn much from him. Trust notwithstanding.”
Amye carries the rifle to gift to Youshon. The two Braeco’n grumble, barely audible, in Reynard’s universal translator about pure luck for an Osirian female.
Reynard flashes Amye a smile of pride, but despite his delight in his crewmate, he has to respect Youshon and quickly dispatches her away along with Scott. Ki-Ton remains at his captain’s side.
“We’ve dealt with this one before. The Admiral’s intelligence operative.”
Ki-Ton nods.
“Intelligence: term for what has to be done in order to stand up against those who would oppress others,” Ki-Ton states.
“Admiral Maxtin provides all the weapons you need, but he made it clear we could transport your people back to…” He almost says safety and insults the man and his warriors. “United Confederation of Planets.”
“I’m an old warrior. Being old brings about wisdom, as does having traveled so far from my home world. The logical course of action would be to accept the Admiral’s offer, but Braeco’ns are warriors from birth, and those youths who fight would never accept such a wise action, nor would they function well within the confines of UCP military rules.”
Youshon gives several hand gestures to his two soldiers, deploying them to retrieve the Mokarran shuttle and weapons. “We grow stronger each time a Mokarran falls.”
“Wise stratagem; build your arsenal while you deplete theirs.” Reynard recalls reading of such guerrilla tactics.
“What strategies are you employing by attacking a Mokarran patrol so close to your own hidden base?” The question Ki-Ton poses purposely seems insulting to a species of warriors.
“The Mokarran no longer search the area when we ambush them. It took a great many attacks before they gave up, realized we never stayed, and booby-trapped the area. Depleting their numbers further. Still, in their arrogance, they send out regular patrols of only three soldiers.”
“Few species would attack a single Mokarran, let alone three.”
“We are not other species. We are Braeco’n.” He thumps his chest.
“My chief engineer would speculate the Mokarran military teeters on collapse, and the Mokarran’s pursuit of rebel groups like yours only keeps up the pretense of power. They’re engaged in an unwinnable war with the Throgen Empire.”
“Then victory shall be obtained, but the new Mokarran leader builds a supernatural following, and fanatical soldiers are the most dangerous kind.”
“Showing weakness to an enemy could be a ploy to draw out rebel groups like yours in an attempt to eliminate you.”
“You have experienced military leader thoughts, Commander Reynard, but lack the scars of many battlefields. Where did you study such tactics? Not at the UCP Academy,” Youshon asks.
“I played a lot of chess with my dad. He’d never let me win.”
“Placating children with a false sense of skill teaches them nothing. Braeco’ns would have received a lash upon losing as well.”
Reynard cringes at the thought. “I chose to play him again.”
“Why?” Youshon inquires.
“I knew I could beat him. I got better at it each time.”
“You defeated him.”
“Nope. Never could. Not once in a thousand games could I ever outthink him.”
“You never brought honor to your house by learning more than your teacher.”
“No one else I ever played could ever beat me.”
“So you brought honor to your father’s instruction. Even if you couldn’t surpass his teachings.” Youshon nods. “We learn much from all warriors. Even young ones.”
“Even females?”
“I should be insulted, but I’ve come to a better understanding of the galaxy than the indoctrinated youth of my species. Impossible to accept women as anything but breeders. It may not be acceptable to most species, but we fight for our way of life the same as you. If we survive then perhaps in generations to come we’ll develop more respect for our females.”
“The problem with Osirians is you always feel your method of existence is how everyone should behave, yet you follow your own morals least,” Ki-Ton chimes in.
“I just felt my sniper deserved the respect a skilled warrior is given. She clearly demonstrated her value.” To my crew as well.
“She has earned my respect. As have you, despite your lack of experience.”
“I value what you offer me, Youshon, but I value my crew even more.” Amye’s had her respect stripped away from her at some point. “I want her to keep what she earns.”
“HERE HE COMES,” Kymberlynn warns.
Amye whips her swimming head around. She grabs the corner of the bar to keep from falling over, setting back any credibility she’s given future female warriors who join the Braeco’n insurgents.
“He’s going to be mad.” Kymberlynn’s voice never seems to lose its taunting demeanor.
“Shut up.” Amye squeezes the bar until her fingertips glow white from the pressure, but it doesn’t prevent them from slipping.
“Just don’t puke on him. It’s real hard for a man to date a girl who pukes on him.”
“I don’t want to date him,” Amye snaps. She needs to let go and get a better hold on the bar, but if she does she will topple over.
“No? Then why are you staring at him?”
Amye protests, “I’m so drunk I don’t know where I’m looking.”
“Sure, Little Sis. You’ve had a crush ever since he dug you out.”
“Just because he did something nice for me and didn’t expect anything in return doesn’t mean I want to warm his bed.”
“Amye, when was the last time a guy did anything nice for you where he didn’t intend for you to end up on your back?”
“Don’t cast stones. You humped Scott to convince him to take you off Tartarus when he left. You were going to abandon me.” Amye reaches for her mug.
“Not a good plan,” Reynard grips her wrist. As his fingers wrap to secure her, Amye releases her hold on the bar and relaxes, slumping against him.
“I recommend you don’t have any of what they are serving. It’s rough,” Amye admits.
“It must be, if it’s
