had integrated variable-swept wings with four massive articulated engine pods, two on the wings and two on canards near the cockpit. The pods threw off heat shimmers which distorted the air above them into complicated mirages. Dana stared at them for a moment then looked away.

A ramp slid out of the hull at the same time as the shuttle’s personnel door opened. Within seconds, a pair of Zuul came out and walked down the ramp.

“Attention!” Alan barked, and even across the way, his troopers snapped to.

The two aliens stopped at the bottom of the ramp and waited. Alan, Dana, and Ethan walked up to greet them. The two Zuul were similar in size, one dark brown, the other somewhat blonde, like Ripley. Alan couldn’t tell their sex.

“Colonel Porter?” the blonde one asked, looking between Dana and Alan.

“I’m Colonel Porter,” Alan said. “This is Captain Dana Porter, my wife and logistics officer, and Captain Tucker, my executive officer.”

“Wife,” the blonde Zuul said. “I did not know your race had clans as well.”

“We don’t,” Alan explained. “Some companies are family affairs, not clans. The leadership and some of the members would be related, sure.” He stopped and looked confused.

“It’s complicated,” Dana said.

The Zuul dropped her jaw slightly and nodded. “I am Uufek, representative of the K’lak, which you might think of as the Zuul mercenary governing body.”

Alan listened to his translator finish rendering Uufek’s words into English before responding. “I was expecting someone else.” He was about to mention the Krif’Hosh and Coshke, whom Crent had spoken of on Gephard 14 years ago, when Uufek spoke again.

“I have come to learn you have some of our pups?”

“Yours?” Dana asked, moving forward. The tone of her voice cut like a razor.

“They’re Zuul, you are not.” Uufek turned her ears toward them in what Alan recognized as polite confusion. His kids used that gesture often when he asked them to do something they didn’t want to do, and couldn’t imagine why he’d ask.

“We don’t see it that way.” Dana’s voice chilled further. When that tone was aimed at him, Alan started scanning for exits. Unfortunately, these Zuul wouldn’t recognize it. He stepped between them.

“This conversation isn’t useful,” he said. “Can you tell me why no one from your government responded before now?”

“Our government doesn’t handle such matters; the clans do.”

“I see. And who are you?” Alan asked, indicating the other Zuul.

“I am Teef; I represent clan Insho’Ze.”

“How many clans are there?” Alan asked.

“There are many types of clans,” Teef said. “As my clan is a merc clan, I will assume you mean merc. More than a thousand. Though most are small, some are quite large and powerful.”

“I think I understand. The clans are your families?”

“And much more,” Teef said. “May we meet the pups?”

Alan looked back at his wife. Dana’s eyes were hard and suspicious. His heart ached. They’d always known this day would come. Known, and feared it. “Follow us, please.”

* * *

Sonya crouched in the corner of their living room, watching Ripley pace around their oversized furniture. Her sister’s rapid prowl gave her something to focus on besides her own nerves. Drake and Rex arm-wrestled over the beat-up old game table, and Shadow sat in the middle of the couch with his eyes closed, so only Ripley gave her any useful distraction.

Their parents had gone to meet the Zuul delegation, and they’d lost the brief but loud battle to join them. Sonya supposed they hadn’t fought that hard, truth be told. Shadow hadn’t even joined the argument—he’d been quieter since his accident. Still infuriating and charming by turns, as their smallest brother always had been, but…quieter.

Sonya wrinkled her nose, eyes tracking Ripley without entirely focusing, and attempted yet again to wrangle her thoughts to one path. After nearly a decade and a half of silence, some Zuul had decided to follow up on their existence. She and her siblings had theorized over half a dozen conversations, and then ducked back away into their respective hobbies and chores. Even Rex could tell talking about it hurt Dana, and they wouldn’t be able to come to any conclusion until the Zuul—their…clan, maybe?—deigned to arrive, so what was the point?

Beyond Rex’s occasional grunts, silence held between them. Shadow usually played the role of getting them talking. The quiet itched under her fur, and Sonya was considering leaping over the back of the couch and tackling Shadow just for something to do when the ambient noise outside their house changed.

All five sets of Zuul ears pivoted toward the door at the same moment, and Sonya straightened from her squat. Rex ended the match with Drake handily, and the latter didn’t even snarl in disappointment. Ripley slowed, met Sonya’s eyes, and crossed the room to stand next to her. Only Shadow remained unmoved.

“We should have done this in the debriefing room,” Sonya muttered, taking in their comfortable living space. What would the Zuul think? Did she care? A neutral space would have—would have—her thoughts sputtered to a halt, and for the moment it took the door to open, she strongly considered darting to her room.

“We’ve got this,” Ripley murmured back, pressing her shoulder into Sonya’s before straightening and folding her hands behind her back. Sonya echoed her sister’s posture, and felt better for it.

Their mother stepped in first, concern bleeding from her as she studied each of their faces. Dana composed herself before moving to the side, but even so, Sonya wanted to bound across the room to her.

“They wanted to meet you in our house in order to show you how—” Alan had his command voice on, level and brisk. Sonya always appreciated it more when he aimed it at someone else, but at the moment her focus had locked on to the figures behind him.

Two Zuul, one furred somewhere between Rex

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