Chapter 8

Most of him was covered in mud. As far as he could tell he had landed at the edge of a muddy puddle. Just a foot or so the other way and he would have splatted into it completely, and would probably have drowned in it. Some of the mud had splashed up, and there wasn't much of him that wasn't covered in it.

He heard the humming drone of an aircar somewhere overhead. He frantically ignored the pain to force himself over so he could look up. If they were searching for him then he'd need to get their attention. He did find the aircar in the sky. He had to close one blurry eye to be able to make anything out.

He had spotted it af first because of the bright sun glinting off its windows. There were two Rich'ti in it. One was waving a device around. Some kind of scanner, Kevan concluded. The other one had a rifle, and was scanning around with that.

Kevan fixed his eye on the one with the rifle. They were looking for him, he decided. Making sure he was dead. He was camouflaged by mud and down in the shadows. He knew that would help, but he wondered what that scanner was trying to detect.

The aircar circled around for a while, making more than one pass right over him. Between passes he used his right arm, which hurt the least, to grab more mud to smear over his face and in his hair. They made one low pass pretty close to him. He closed his eyes, afraid they'd see just the eyes and recognize what they'd seen. They passed by. They made another pass on the other side of him. He determined they were making a spiral--probably centered on the crash site. They didn't come back for another pass.

He let himself relax for a moment to try and take stock of the situation. As he did, he realized that relaxing was probably the worst thing he could have done as pain washed over him again. He realized suddenly that he was shivering involuntarily, despite the fact that he wasn't cold. His mind suddenly put together that the other leg - the uninjured one - was now broken in at least three places. He had a mess of scrapes and scratches that seemed to burn where the mud touched him. He could tell some ribs were broken and there was a terrible pain in his hip that he couldn't pinpoint. His back hurt, one wrist seemed sprained and two fingers on one hand were broken as well. He was amazed that his arm bones seemed intact although there was a long, deep, burning gash along one forearm. His head still spun and hurt, especially at the base of his skull, and his vision kept blurring on him. He knew he shouldn't move, but also had a feeling that he needed to somehow get to the water he'd seen and clean the mud off himself. If it burned so much, it couldn't be good for the wounds. He tried to push himself up with his good wrist and gasped as more pain washed over him just from raising his head. The edges of his vision grew grayer and grayer until darkness washed over him again for a time.

When he woke next he felt himself being carried on some sort of stretcher. Something cool and damp had been laid over his eyes, preventing him from being able to see anything.

These must be on Gertat's side, he thought to himself, or they would have just killed me. He wondered briefly why they hadn't given him anything for the pain before unconsciousness took over again.

The next time he awoke, he could see more clearly although it was only dimly lit in the room. After blinking his eyes a few times, he was able to tell he was in some sort of hut that seemed made of straw, twigs, and grasses held together with some sort of dried mud. There were a couple of candles on the ground nearby that let him see. A curtain of fabric hung over the doorway of the hut, but there were no windows. He lay on some kind of padded fur matting on the floor. He realized that he had been cleaned of the mud, and his clothing had been removed, but someone had put a soft loosely-woven blanket over him.

As he took further stock of himself, he found that his broken bones had been splinted with smooth sticks that reminded him of bamboo, and some sort of fabric strips. Some kind of plaster-like substance had been applied to where his broken ribs had been, as well as around one of his hips, leaving him mostly unable to get up from the position he was laying in. There were also stitches across the large gash in his arm, holding it closed, as well as some of the other larger gashes he had suffered. Other, smaller gashes, seemed to be covered in some sort of stiff fabric pieces instead. His head still hurt intensely, especially when he moved it to try and see himself and his surroundings. Eventually he gave up with a groan and went back to being still again.

The sound must have been heard by someone outside, for it wasn't long afterwards that two Rich'ti entered the hut. There was a male and a female, and they immediately moved the blanket away and began inspecting his wounds. He waited a moment before saying anything and realized that they didn't know he could speak the language as they spoke to each other. They discussed his wounds as if he would not understand, and the female began offering water by using pantomime instead of words.

"I am more concerned about his head," the male told the female. "We have no way of knowing how different his physiology is from our own. We could be doing more damage than good here. He's obviously important or they wouldn't have allowed him on the planet in the first place."

"He lost a lot of blood, Maruke," the female replied. "I don't think he is quite as fragile as you fear. His skull seems thick like ours. He may just need time. Now that he's awake we can try to give him something to help speed his healing. He seems to be in quite a bit of pain as well."

"I am in quite a bit of pain," he admitted to them, once he'd swallowed some water. His voice was hoarse and raspy, but he managed to get the words out clearly enough for them to understand. The two Rich'ti looked at him, in stunned surprise.

Now there was a female with him. He thought he had heard her name at some point, but he couldn't remember much of anything since the crash. Someone had found him, and he was alive and being cared for. He could only assume he was among friends.

"How long have I been here?" he managed to ask.

"Eight days," the female said. "We were worried about you. Two days ago you finally started showing improvement. It was only yesterday that we were really confident you would live. We have learned a fair degree of medical skill, but none of us have met an alien before, let alone treated one."

"I'm Kevan, by the way. And thank you."

"I am Ar'shan. You will be safe here, I think. Troops came searching for you near where you crashed. They have not returned, so either they assume we have you or they assume you are dead. But you are important to someone. Later you must tell us why. You did not crash land here, which means you were allowed here. But for today you must eat and regain your strength."

She helped him sit up. It took some time effort. Once he was propped up she handed him a bowl. There was meat and their potatoes and some crunchy vegetables. He reminded himself to eat slowly. The flavors were mild but distinctive, and to him they were delicious.

The food helped considerably. He felt a lot more awake just from eating. She handed him a wooden cup of something and he looked at it skeptically. It looked like water, but he didn't want to sleep again just then and couldn't be sure they wouldn't have put something in it.

"What is this?" he asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"It is just water," she replied. "We would not have gone to such lengths to help you if we planned to just poison you once you awoke."

"It's not that," he said. "I didn't think you were trying to poison me. I was more worried you'd put me back to sleep."

"We have been limiting what herbs and medicines we give you. We don't know how compatible your system is to what we have to offer. We did give you something for pain and to prevent infection, but we have not been drugging you to make you sleep. Your body has required it of you." She seemed offended.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I did not mean to imply that you had done anything of the sort. Amongst my kind it is not unheard of that someone might slip something into a drink to help another person sleep if it was needed. And there have been some Rich'ti who have seen it reasonable to omit telling me things."

"You will find that there are many ways in which we are not like the other Rich'ti," she said quietly.

"Who are you?" Just as soon as he asked the question, he suddenly knew the answer. "The outcasts?" She leveled a stare at him then, and he knew he was right.

"Whatever they have told you about us, you should regard with caution. We are not the evil criminals they portray us as. And not all of us that live out here were directly cast out. Some of us were born here." With that, she picked up the empty bowl and left the hut, leaving him sitting there alone with the cup of water still in his hand.

He sat for a moment sipping the water while he wondered how many of them there were. He knew he hadn't gone a great distance from the city. He had had the impression that the outcasts were few in number and probably some distance off. He had imagined them being dumped on an island or another continent. There were certainly enough parallels in human history.

Ar'shan came back with a bundle that she set next to him.

"I need to change your bandages and see how you are doing. Maybe while I do that you can tell me what is going on. We do get some news information, but it is infrequent and as a rule incomplete. Tell me, why is it that an alien speaks our language and was invited to the planet?"

"Your other colonies are being attacked by another alien race called the Brey-hahd. My people are starting to fight them as well, so there has been discussion of an alliance."

"We have heard some things about these Brey-hahd. We have heard that contact was lost with one colony. If the Takor is even considering an alliance with aliens then it must be going very badly."

"Yes, and in the--" he cut himself off from describing what had happened on the burned paradise. The same thing could happen here if the Brey-hahd won. There was no point in scaring them just yet. "It's not going well, no."

"Gertat is better than his predecessor, but he is very prideful. Your people must be faring better or you would not have been brought here."

"I really don't know anything about his predecessor," Kevan said. "My people have lost less ships against the Brey-hahd, however, and we have yet to lose a colony."

"Which race are you?" she asked, pulling the blanket aside. For a moment, he had to stop himself from protesting, but then all reservations were forgotten as he groaned in pain from her shifting his leg slightly.

"Human," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, but I thought I'd start with the worst ones first," she told him apologetically. She slowly began unwrapping the bandages around his splinted leg. "I didn't think that humans had advanced beyond us in technology yet," she added.

"We hold our own well enough," he found himself saying defensively. "We may not be as advanced as you in some areas, but we obviously have something you don't if we can hold back the Brey-hahd." He realized that he must sound childish and wondered why. He realized that there was a strange taste in his mouth and he looked back at the wooden glass. He had been thirsty, so he'd decided to drink the water while she'd been away. It suddenly occurred to him that she had put something in it.

"Just a little something to help you speak truth," she said, noticing his open-mouthed look at the glass and then back at her. "So many alien races are prone to lying."

"But you said..." he trailed off, totally astonished.

"I said we did not put anything in to make you sleep."

"You said it was just water," he pointed out, unhappily. He found that he suddenly couldn't help but say the first thing that came to his mind.

"Well, yes. There was that." She shrugged. "Let's just say it's for your own good, shall we?" She continued to calmly unwrap the bandages and then started removing some gauze-like pieces that had been held in place beneath them. She dabbed gently at them with a cloth that she wet from a small jar she had. Whatever was on the cloth tingled slightly against the wound and then had a slight numbing effect. When she had checked all the cuts and gashes, she gently replaced the gauze and bandages.

"My own good?" he asked as she worked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That right now would not be a good time for you to lie to us. That we have no reason to trust you and the other Rich'ti do not yet know that we have found you."

"Are you threatening me?" he leaned forward, trying to adopt one of the Rich'ti attitudes that Sarsh'ta had taught him to look as if he wasn't about to let someone challenge him, but then groaned in pain and fell weakly back against the padding.

"You are in no position to be making challenges right now," she told him. "Someone has taught you quite a bit about the Rich'ti, I'll give you that."

"Am I a prisoner or a hostage?" he asked pointedly.

"Let's just call you an unlikely guest for now," she replied. "Why don't you tell me about your time amongst the Rich'ti so far instead of bickering over semantics."

"One of our ships met one of yours in neutral space. I spent..." he looked around trying to find his palmpad, not sure how best to translate weeks. "There was a device I had in my coverings, on my leg, did you happen to find it when you found me?"

She laughed. "We were investigating the crash. We have a small scanner that locates power sources. We found you when we found your device. Its outer casing and display screen are cracked. It appears to be a small computer, correct?"

"Yes... well, sort of. It's mostly a data storage device. I wouldn't really call it a true computer, though. I'd been using it to take notes and translate. It has a database of your language."

"Is that how you learned it so well? Your pronunciation isn't perfect, but just being able to communicate this well is an important start."

"Am I going to be able to have it back?"

"That is not my decision."

"It helps with some of the harder words that are harder to remember," Kevan said, wishing her answer had been more definite. "My people have many languages, so we are accustomed to learning others. In my time on the ship here I had plenty of ...opportunity to practice. I also helped in the kitchen one shift each day.

"I only arrived here about a day ago... or about a day before you found me, anyway. I arrived and there was to be a feast with Gertat and ...the Takor of the occupied moon. A group of Brey-hahd scout ships arrived in orbit and attacked, which interrupted that. The next day I was to attend a meeting with Gertat and his advisors. The escort that I thought was bringing me there was the one who tried to kill me."

He sighed and leaned back, trying to clear his mind from thinking of anything else. He was angry that they had drugged him and had no plans to give them any more information than he could avoid until the drug wore off. Ar'shan remained silent for a moment as she began unwrapping bandages on his arm next.

"They really wanted you dead, too," she finally said. "There wasn't much left of the wreckage. The one who saw it heading toward the mountain said it exploded just before hitting."

"Yes, I saw something counting down," he told her.

"You are very lucky to be alive."

"Am I?" he asked before he could stop himself. She looked up at him with some surprise. "Or am I only being healed to be put on trial?"

She sat back for a moment with a sigh. "We cannot afford the luxuries here that the... Rich'ti of the cities can." She seemed to search for what to call them, and Kevan suspected they had a specific name they used for Rich'ti that weren't outcasts.

"Most of the people that are out here," she continued, "have either been branded for a crime or were opposed to one of Gertat's predecessors. Then there are those like myself who have been born out here. Gertat's last predecessor was one of the worst. He didn't just drop people out here, but sometimes branded them for crimes they didn't commit so that it was a certainty that they could never go back home again. We have gotten all manner of people out here. You are an alien, and that makes you potentially more dangerous. You are also the first alien that we are aware of that has ever been allowed to set foot on this planet. That makes you important, and therefore valuable to us."

"So I'm a hostage," he said aloud as he thought it.

"I suppose you could look at it that way," she said, frowning, as she returned to the bandages on his arm. "At the very least, we will trade you for medical supplies, and yet we are using some of our current supply to heal your wounds. I do not believe that we are treating you unfairly, do you?"

"No, I suppose not," he admitted grudgingly. There was another long silence while she finished that arm and moved around to the other side of him to begin work on his other leg. He noticed, as she moved, that she had several scars, mostly across her chest and arms. They showed up as small patches where the fur hadn't grown back. He wondered to himself where she had gotten them, and then realized with a frustrated sigh that he had said it aloud.

"Those of us out here are divided into several tribes," she replied without looking up from her work. "Sometimes we fight with one another."

"So how many of you are there?" he asked.

"There are seven tribes on this continent, but we are scattered in communities. One tribe might have ten or twenty communities in its lands." She finished with the bandages and put the blanket back over him. "I think it will be some time yet before you will be able to walk. We'll have some of the older young take care of washing you, at least until bandages are ready to come off."

"So this hut here is pretty much my world for a while, eh?"

"If you keep food down and get some strength back today then I think tomorrow we can arrange to have you moved outside now and then. The forest and jungle can be dangerous places, but you won't be leaving on your own any time soon, so we can worry about that later."

"Yep, it's not like you need guards on me..."

"It would be good if you could come to think of yourself as a guest here for the time being."

A male came in without knocking or announcing himself. He was breathing more deeply than normal. "There has been news. Gertat has been killed."

"What?" Kevan and Ar'shan said in the same moment, with a similar measure of surprise in their voices.

"Are you sure?" Kevan asked.

"Have you told Eesh'ket?" Ar'shan asked the male.

"Yes," he nodded back at her, still catching his breath. "Eesh'ket knows. Everyone will shortly. There's more news. The moon's been taken. Brey-hahd are landing ground troops and have breached the main dome. The housing dome. There's concern they'll move here next."

"What about Gertat?" Kevan interrupted. "How was he killed?"

"He was challenged. It's not time for an election, so it was to the death. I heard that Gertat was winning and offered him a chance to back down but somehow the tables suddenly turned. There are rumors that it wasn't a fair fight. Gertat was popular."

"Who challenged him? Who's the new Takor?" Ar'shan asked.

"Logur."

"Oh, no," Ar'shan shook her head unhappily.

"Eesh'ket has already ordered more scouts. It's already been a day since he took the seat. It won't be long before we start finding exiles."

"What about Gertat's advisors?" Kevan asked, suddenly thinking of Sarsh'ta.

"The ones who Logur says he can't trust will be likely be gotten rid of or challenged very quickly so he can secure his position," Ar'shan answered. She waved a hand at the male, who nodded and left.

"Gotten rid of how?"

"Logur was chief advisor to Bernet, Gertat's predecessor," she told him. "Bernet had a habit of making people disappear. He'd either accuse them of a crime outright and have them branded or exiled, or he'd exile them with a warning of what would happen to their community if they tried to come back. We understand that there are other tribes that have taken in such survivors as well. Bernet basically mentored Logur. When Bernet retired at the last election, he expected Logur to take his place as Takor. Logur did not win the challenge, however. Gertat proved himself better on all counts. Including the physical challenge, which makes me wonder how Logur was able to defeat him in a death challenge. He was not the better warrior."

"I still haven't gotten a report out to my government since arriving," Kevan lamented. "There hadn't been time. They don't know what's going on."

"There's certainly no way we can do that," Ar'shan said.

"I'm sure there will be a meeting shortly," the male said before he excused himself.

"If it's allowable, I'd really like to be present at that meeting. My fate lies with yours for right now," Kevan said.

"I'll see what we can do," Ar'shan said, but she didn't sound convincing. "For right now there are things I must attend to. Your injuries are showing signs of good progress. You are a hardier race than you appear."

"Thank you, I guess," Kevan was able to get in before she left. He sighed, and then started to clutch at his sore ribs, which only hurt his arm. He layed back into the padding he was propped up against. He wondered aloud how long the truth drug was going to stay in his system, but there was no one else there to hear him.

He sat for what seemed a long while, going through what he knew in his mind. He realized he hadn't had nearly enough time to get any real bearings on the political situation except to know that his presence was causing some tension. He hoped that Sarsh'ta would be alright, although he suspected that she was not on the list of people that the new Takor was going to be willing to trust. His thoughts went back to Pergute, wondering if there would be any way to reach the Rich'ti professor. He wondered more about the group of people Pergute was secretly a part of and how well they could hide themselves from notice by Logur's supporters. However, he knew he didn't know enough about Logur to make any real assessment.

He let out a long sigh of frustration, which led to another round of wincing in pain. It seemed to him that whatever pain medication they had been giving him was wearing off. There wasn't really much of his body that didn't ache or throb painfully in some way. He quickly found that it was best if he just tried to stay as still as possible.

It seemed ages before someone finally came back into the hut. It had darkened some and Kevan realized he had dozed off for a while while waiting. The Rich'ti that entered was male, and Kevan could tell he was fairly old, although not as old as some of the eldest he had met back in Sarsh'ta's community. The male bore many scars, and somewhat muted coloring.

"Hello," the Rich'ti said. "It would not have been appropriate for you to attend our meeting, but I thought I would speak with you now instead. I am Eesh'ket. I lead this community." The Rich'ti spoke very precisely and clearly, as if making sure that Kevan understood every word.

Kevan could tell immediately that the truth drug they had given him had worn off. He knew this because he was able to not say his immediate response.

"For the moment, at least, my fate is rather connected to yours. Have you at least decided whether I'm a guest or a prisoner or a hostage?"

"It is not as simple as that," Eesh'tket said with a surprised look on his face. "Ar'shan warned me you had a good command of our language. I underestimated it."

"I'm used to being underestimated. If I'm a guest, then I should at least deserve the chance to listen in on discussions that involve my fate. Unless I'm just a hostage to be exchanged at a later date."

"We intend you to be a guest here, at least for the time being. But we have never had an alien here, so we must decide the ...protocols."

"So, can you tell me what's happening?"

It took Eesh'ket a moment to answer. "We had heard about the Brey-hahd and the war before, but we tried to pretend it didn't affect us. It seems we can no longer afford that luxury."

"No, it seems unlikely they'll make any distinction between you and the rest of the Rich'ti here. The question is, can you do anything about it?" He thought he understood their position well, being surrounded by events out of his control.

"We do not know much about these Brey-hahd. If we have already lost an entire colony to them, as well as the moon of this planet, then they must be formidable opponents. The land here is our territory. The other Rich'ti understood that when they began to exile us here. The Brey-hahd will need to be made to understand it as well." Kevan saw the Rich'ti's jaw set in determination.

"The Brey-hahd have ships and weapons," Kevan told him. "I don't know how equipped you are to fight such a battle, but this is not likely to be the same as fighting amongst yourselves."

"This is true," Eesh'ket conceded. "We do not have ships of our own, and the majority of the weapons we have available are likely to be considered primitive, even to your standards. Perhaps during your time with us you can share what knowledge you have so we might better prepare for their coming?"

Kevan looked at the Rich'ti in surprise.

"Just a moment ago we weren't sure if I am a guest or a hostage and now you're asking me to just offer up my help?"

Eesh'ket sighed and sat down next to the fur bedding on the floor.

"Someone amongst the cities wants you dead, Kevan. With the recent change of leadership it is very likely that any allies you had amongst the pechute are dead or about to be exiled themselves."

"Pechute?" Kevan asked. "I'm not familiar with that word."

"Sorry, it is what we call the other Rich'ti. They call us outcasts. Pechute roughly translates to those who live in the cities." Kevan nodded his understanding, wishing he had his datapad handy to log the word into it.

"My point is," Eesh'ket continued, "that even if we took you back to the Pechute, the best you could hope for right now would be to be sent directly home to your own kind. It is very possible that you might just be killed instead. For the moment, you are much safer here with us."

"When we first found you," Eesh'ket explained, "we had hoped that we could trade you back to them for supplies. Perhaps even negotiate the return of some people who Gertat's predecessor banished out here but did not mark. Some Rich'ti have a difficult time adjusting to losing their community and the life to which they were accustomed. With Gertat currently in control, there was a chance to help some of them. Perhaps it seems callous to you that we would use your life for such an exchange, but we knew there must be some importance to your being here. With the current news, we now know that opportunity is passed. Instead, I can only hope you'll understand my reasoning and accept the offer of hospitality that is now being offered. Or, when you are healed enough to travel, we can point you in the direction of the cities and you can fend for yourself. I am not going to burden my community with your presence if you are only going to cause trouble here."

"No I don't intend to cause trouble, although perhaps I already have. I do apologize for that," he offered, hoping to pacify things a little.

"My people might know a little more about the Brey-hahd than yours, but I don't know all of it myself. I had a file in my computer, but that's in the city. On the ship here I read a report on the Brey-hahd compiled by your people. Mostly it was about what the Brey-hahd had done to the colony it had taken.

"The main problem, I think, is that they need to be fought in space, rather than down on the ground. Now, unless you have ships..."

"No, unfortunately we do not."

"Yeah. That limits our options a bit."

"Tell me about what was done to the colony," Eesh'ket said, shifting on the furry mat.

"Three colonies actually. I think on two of them they enslaved the population to mine raw materials. The sick and elderly were killed. On the third planet there weren't enough resources, so they burned it completely."

"The whole planet?!"

"I saw pictures of it. The whole planet on fire. It would have been done from orbit. That's why you have to fight them in space. Because even if you start winning down here..." He let himself trail off. There was no point in saying the rest. He couldn't even let the people back home know what was going on.

There was a moment of stunned silence from Eesh'ket before he stood up.

"I will return in a moment," he said before leaving the hut. Kevan sat there, feeling stuck and frustrated at his current physical state. He felt like he was missing out on half the conversations around him and unable to participate in matters that could directly affect him. Fortunately, it was not long before Eesh'ket returned.

"I have called a meeting of all the leaders of our communities in exile," he said. "It will take some time for all of them to arrive, but then the matter can be discussed amongst us. A meeting like this has never been attempted before."

"What if some of them won't come?" Kevan asked. "Ar'shan mentioned that you sometimes fight amongst yourselves."

"There are those out here that were exiled for murdering people," Eesh'ket explained. "Those branded to reflect that crime are usually rejected by the other communities and must join with the communities of similar crimes. I have heard that those are harsher communities, usually led by the Rich'ti who can keep the others too afraid of him to challenge his leadership. When there are disputes over territory, they don't like to negotiate and fighting breaks out. I am hoping that the circumstances will be enough to overcome some of the differences."

"What do you hope to accomplish with such a meeting?" Kevan wondered aloud. "If you haven't any ships, you can't do much to change things."

"We can do plenty when it reaches the planet, I hope." he answered. "But, more importantly, we will not be left out of the equation. I am going to suggest we return and make our voices heard within the cities. I expect they will be surprised by our numbers, for one. We may only hold a small percentage of the population on this planet, but we will not be forgotten and left to die here either. I find it highly unlikely that any of the exiles on the other planets were evacuated in time. It is more likely that no one even thought to warn them."

"There's also the possibility that my government will find out about the Brey-hahd attack here, and that they might send ships to help."

"With Logur as Takor there will be no alliances with aliens," Eesh'ket stated matter-of-factly.

"My people have a history of getting involved without being invited. It would depend on how many ships could be spared, and even still it would take several days for them to get here. Eight or nine...maybe ten," he guessed, assuming the Rich'ti ships were faster and trying to estimate how much so.

"If the Brey-hahd are here," Eesh'ket began, "and were able to take the moon colony, why have they not attacked here on the planet?"

"I'm not the expert there... Maybe they saw the domed settlement as an easier target. Maybe they don't have enough forces to subdue and contain a larger population than that. Maybe they only took it to test defenses before a main attack. What we really don't know is how much time we have before they do strike here."

"Later we will have a meeting and you can tell us more of what you do know about them. More than just me needs to hear this, even before the other tribe leaders arrive--those that do, any way."

"Is it possible for me to be moved out of this hut? It is frustrating being the last to know what's going on," Kevan asked.

"While I can understand your frustration, I'm afraid that's not possible just yet. I've been made to understand that there is some concern still about one of your bones being better healed before you are moved. Here," He tapped at the hardened cast-like material covering Kevan's hip. "There are drugs we could possibly give you that might speed the healing process along, but no one has been able to be sure of how your system would react. There have been the occasional problems with Rich'ti who've taken such medicines. I will have Maruke return and explain it better and you can decide for yourself if you wish to try it. Without it, you will be lying here for a while yet."

"Is there any way I can get my electronic device back at least? My datapad?" he asked.

"Yes. That I can do. It has taken some damage but does still appear to be mostly functioning. There has been some discussion amongst the more technical-minded on whether or not it could be repaired. I'll find out what they have decided on the matter and let you know. I suspect the cracked casing may be a problem to replace, but repair might be possible. I think we have some salvage material that could replace the cracked bit of screen, if I'm understanding them correctly. Just so you don't think we are entirely inhospitable here." Eesh'ket gave Kevan a smiling nod.

"Thank you," Kevan replied. "I will --"

Kevan found himself cut off by the same male that had burst into the hut earlier when Ar'shan had been changing bandages. He seemed to be more out of breath this time than he had been earlier.

"Found some," the male said between breaths. "Three already, rumors of more in other areas. Two are being brought here. The third was picked up by Ing'grit."

Eesh'ket nodded at the male and stood up. "We can speak more later, Kevan. I must attend to this matter. Maruke should visit you soon." The leader turned and left the hut without another word, the male following behind him.

He groaned. He wondered if it was just going to stay this way. He was the least of their concerns right now, he supposed. He certainly couldn't contribute much right now. He would tell them what little he knew about the Brey-hahd, and then after that he'd just be in their way. How bad can the effects of that drug be? he asked himself.

It was a while before Maruke came back. "I was told you wanted to know about Rekshal."

"Is that the healing drug?"

"Yes. It has other effects, but I'm not sure I can predict exactly what it will do to you."

"What have I got to lose?" Kevan asked.

"It reduces pain and helps sleep. It accelerates healing. It can also produce hallucinations and ...disturbing dreams."

"I can't afford to stay lying here. I'm just in the way--at a time when you probably can't much afford people in the way."

"It is your decision. I will prepare some if you are certain."

"Yes, let's do it," he answered.

"I will prepare it now and return when it is ready," Maruke said, standing up. The Rich'ti turned and left quickly. Kevan found himself once again frustrated that every Rich'ti seemed to have a habit of stating their intention and then rushing out the door, leaving no room for further conversation.

Kevan lay there quietly while he waited. He realized that until he had his datapad again he had no way of knowing how much time was passing. It also occurred to him that there was only so much life left on its battery, as he had not had the chance to use the device that Kreckan had given him for it. He chided himself for not having thought to stuff that in his pockets as well.

It seemed to take a long time for Maruke to return, although Kevan told himself that it just felt that way because he had nothing to judge the time lapse on. The lights in the room appeared to be more like oil lamps now that he had a chance to look at them more clearly, although he couldn't see into the tubular ceramic jars to tell how much oil might have been consumed. There was no way to see past the walls, which seemed well-packed with the mud holding it all together. The doorway was covered over by a thick fur that hung on the outside of the hut, and was bigger than the doorway was wide. He found that if he was still enough, he could hear the murmer of voices outside, along with a variety of other sounds, but it was all faint enough that he couldn't make any of them out.

Maruke came in with a basket of items that he set alongside Kevan when he sat down. He pulled out a glass tube with a needle attached to it that looked almost exactly like a human syringe to Kevan. Maruke administered the drug in nearly the same manner as well, binding Kevan's arm briefly, finding the vein, and inserting the needle. The medicine felt hot as it moved into Kevan's arm, and it seemed as if he could feel it moving upwards through the veins to his heart. Then, without any warning, Kevan's heart raced and his whole body tensed tightly. He let out a cry of pain as injured parts of him jostled in their bandagings. His breath was coming in short gasps and he could feel the moisture building on his brow.

Maruke pulled out a scanner when he put the syringe away, and put his hands on Kevan's wrist as if monitoring his heartbeat as well. Kevan's eyes met Maruke's as Maruke looked quickly back and forth between the scanner and Kevan.

After a moment, the tension started to slowly ebb away, leaving Kevan feeling weaker than he had before, but better able to relax and breathe. His heart still raced and his breathing was still coming more quickly than he would have liked, but it was definitely an improvement. His body tingled and felt like it itched slightly, just below the skin, a fact that he shared with Maruke.

"That is a good sign," Maruke told him. "I would be worried if you told me any part of you was numb, but what you are feeling sounds normal. I did test your blood for this before even mentioning it to Eesh'ket as an option. You should not have any serious problems. Though the hallucinations may be trouble enough."

"So, when should I expect any hallucinations to start?" he asked, wanting to be as prepared as possible.

"It's hard to say. You will probably sleep first. You'll probably sleep a lot. It would be better if you did, actually. Given some of your injuries there's the chance that we'll have to restrain you if you start ...moving about too much."

Kevan's eyes were already getting heavy and dry feeling, and he yawned. "The more sleep you get," Maruke explained, "the faster the healing. The drug tricks your body into putting more and more of its energy into healing itself. It will take a lot out of you. We'll probably have to feed you ectrinegarrussrek--directly into your blood.

"Someone will be outside or here watching over you until it wears off. You will be cared for, do not worry. I'll leave you now, unless you have other questions. But you won't remember the answers to them later, so don't bother yourself with anything other than immediate concerns."

"No, I guess sleep sounds fine," Kevan answered with another yawn. Maruke nodded and put everything back in the basket and left.

The itching under his skin got a little stronger, and he shivered. He was covered in furs and knew he wasn't cold. He wondered aloud if he was going to regret taking the drug or not.

"You do what you need to do to win the game," his father told him. "You can't worry about regrets while the ball is in play."

"You can't live life like that too, dad," Kevan told him. Something felt wrong about his father sitting next to him just then, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Why not? Our time is short. If we live each day as if it were our last, then we'll reap the rewards that each moment can potentially give us." Kevan sighed, as he always did when his dad started going on like this.

"What about planning for the future?" he asked. He didn't know why he kept trying to have this conversation. It always ended the same way. "What about mom and Leeta and I? What happens to us when your 'moments' run out?"

"You'll go on, living moments of your own. We can't be so dependent on each other."

"Isn't that what teamwork is about, dad? Isn't our family like a small team? We can't always focus on the ball if a team member needs us doing something else!"

"Your mother makes her own decisions, Kevan. She knew who I was when she married me."

"But it's okay for Leeta and I, who had no choice in who our parents were, to stand by and watch?" Kevan protested. "Why didn't you stop when you were ahead, dad? When we were born. Winning the game is all well and good, but didn't you want to be here to see your kids grow up and get married?"

In the silence that followed, his father seemed to be fading out of focus.

"Dad?" Kevan tried to reach out, but something was holding him down. "Dad!"

His father vanished, replaced suddenly by a Brey-hahd, grinning down at him with a gun in its hands.

There were Rich'ti around him, holding him down. They were the ones trying to keep him from reaching his dad. Now they were holding him prisoner.

The Brey-hahd laughed. It moved its gun over him, as if deciding where to shoot him. "Stooopid hoomin," it said in broken English. The Rich'ti were trying to tell him something, but they didn't know English. He thought they were trying to warn him about something.

Someone tightened something over his arm. He was on a hospital table. A nurse was strapping him down for surgery. It wasn't uncomfortable. She looked familiar, but he couldn't remember why. She had freckles. "Don't worry," she said, slurring her words as if she were drunk, "this is all routine procedure..."

The nurse left him. He was cold, so cold, naked in the hospital room with its bright white lights. He shivered, but could hardly move. There was a little heater in the room on a wheeled stand where it could be rolled around along with his IV, but it wasn't making much heat.

A parade of gray aliens came in to examine him. They poked and prodded him, gibbering amongst themselves in some strange alien tongue. But then marines came, and scared the aliens away. "We're here to take you home," one of them said.

Someone put a blanket over him. It was a warm blanket. There wasn't anyone around, and it was dimly lit. He thought that maybe he was in a cave. The marines must have put him there to hide him from the aliens. There were bugs crawling on the ceiling of the cave. They were walking in circles around a bat hanging asleep from the center.

The bat looked strange - scaley and and with a reddish tint to its fur. It turned it's head at Kevan and looked at him with black, endless eyes. Then it opened it's mouth and breathed fire on the bugs, igniting them into little firebombs that dropped down onto the blanket. Kevan screamed as the blanket caught fire and his skin began to burn beneath it. He fought to get it off of him, but vines had grown up from the ground below and were wound around his body, preventing him from getting away. The more he fought, the thicker they grew until one grew across his mouth to try and stifle his screaming. He gnawed at it with his teeth, but couldn't get them to bite into it. It tasted like rubber.

He heard a voice. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't understand the language it spoke in. Another voice, less familiar but still known to him, answered the first. Something cool doused the flames. Darkness fell softly around him.

The darkness didn't seem to stay long enough though. Too soon the light came again. He was loose from the vines, but his skin itched now. He scratched, but it didn't seem to make a difference. He scratched and scratched until he realized he'd scratched right through the skin and was bleeding in areas all over his body. He panicked, looking around for someone to help him.

"There now, it's almost over," his mother told him. His sister sat, wide-eyed, at the bottom of his bed while his mother gently applied a soothing lotion over the red marks. "I guess that vaccine wasn't enough for you, now, was it? You got the pox anyway." She smiled down at him and dabbed a cool cloth against his forehead with her other hand.

You're not real, something in his mind realized suddenly. He slowly began to cut through some of the haze of his mind, understanding that what he saw was either a dream or hallucination. He looked down at his sister, who looked to be about 6 years old when he knew her to be an adult now. His last memory of his mother had been in a hospital, where she had died. A part of him could barely breathe, seeing her there smiling at him. The other part of him knew that none of it was really happening. It was just a memory from when he had been a child.

He settled back and let the memory play for a little while before it seemed to drift away from him, and the darkness came again. This time, drawing him gently into a normal sleep.

He woke up slowly, ending up still feeling groggy at best. He was still in the hut, lying on furs and covered in a soft blanket. There was no lamp lit, and only the dimmest of light seeped through a gap in the covering over the door.

He was thirsty, but he was too exhausted to call out. He fell back asleep.

He woke again, this time not as slowly. There was more light--the door covering was open and it was daytime outside. There were two Rich'ti females in the room with him.

"How long?" he asked a little hoarsely. The females both looked at him, cocking their heads. One of them said a strange word. It took him a moment to translate it: speaking.

"Oh!" he asked again, this time in Rich'ti rather than English. He felt foolish for the mistake.

"Eight days. You have made an outstanding recovery. Your body is very good at healing, and reacted strongly to the drug. We were afraid it was too strongly at first, but if you're able to speak there must not have been any lasting problems."

One of them helped him sit up. He needed help more because of weakness than because of pain. He was stiff and aching, but the movement itself didn't hurt. The other handed him a bowl of water, reminding him to start slowly.

The two of them exchanged a look while he was drinking and one of them nodded and left the hut. A few moments later, Maruke came through the doorway. To Kevan's surprise, Sarsh'ta followed right behind him. The other female that had been in the hut left when they arrived. Only a few moments after they entered, Eesh'ket joined them as well.

Maruke was the first to speak, after he took a cursory look at his scanner.

"Good to have back, Kevan. You did both better and worse than we expected. Once you have your strength back, you should only need to be somewhat cautious about damaging the newly healed tissues and bones. I don't want to think about what all you were seeing while the drug did it's work though. You're hallucinations and dreams seemed quite vivid. You will find you are bruised in a few places from us having to hold you down."

Kevan nodded, realizing that the cast-like materials had already been removed and there was nothing more than a few lightweight bandages remaining on some of the areas that had been damaged the most. Someone had obviously been helping keep his muscles active because he didn't feel as if they had atrophied. He turned his attention towards Sarsh'ta and saw that she had obviously suffered some injury herself since he'd last seen her. There were many dark areas where he could tell she was bruised beneath the fur, and bandages on one arm and around a portion of her torso.

"What happened to you?" he asked with some alarm.

"Sudden and unexpected change of government," she told him. "I was busy trying to organize a more detailed search for you when Logur killed Gertat. I know you've heard some of it. Logur then had me brought before him and tried to demand that I publicly admit to being a traitor and betraying the Rich'ti people. I refused." She did a half-hearted smiling nod as she indicated her injuries. "He was very determined. He might have won eventually if Agronet hadn't shown up. Agronet still has a lot of respect among most Rich'ti communities. I'm trying to convince him he needs to challenge Logur. He's all but challenged him already when he found out what Logur was doing to me. Our mating on the ship was successful, so Agronet has a vested interest in my well-being right now."

She looked a little smug over that political move and it was all Kevan could do to not raise an eyebrow.

Maruke made some final grunting noises at his scanner before nodding at Kevan and Eesh'ket and leaving. Once he was gone there was enough room for the leader and Sarsh'ta to sit down next to Kevan, and they did. He noticed that Sarsh'ta seemed to be moving a stiffly too.

"So how did you get out here?" he asked her.

"Logur can't afford to get rid of Agronet and they both know it. Logur had me arrested, and was going to do a show trial before branding and exiling me. Agronet has people loyal to him in the prison, and got me brought out here ahead of schedule. At least until things calm down.

"You see, one of Agronet's prior mates was exiled. He has been observing these areas for some time. He knows how many Rich'ti are out here. The government estimates are very, very wrong. He hasn't bothered correcting them."

"So, what, he dropped you out here just hoping you'd be safe?"

"Not quite," she said with a roll of her head. "He gave me a name to ask for. Shir'an and Ar'shan and I have had quite a bit to talk about since I was dropped off... Ar'shan is their daughter."

"Ar'shan? She's the one who first starting treating me here," he said, startled by the coincidence.

"Yes, I've thanked her for that. She was rather amused to hear that we were connected not only by Agronet but by you as well. I was able to explain some things to her."

"I thought Rich'ti children were raised by the father's community. Why was Ar'shan exiled with her mother?" Kevan asked.

"She wasn't exiled. Shir'an was still pregnant when she was exiled. The exiles have a few contacts within the cities, I've found out, so she was able to get word to Agronet. He was still much younger in his career at the time and could not get permission to have his daughter brought back. Once someone has been exiled, most consider them to no longer be Rich'ti generally."

"Rich'ti fathers tend to have a vested interest in their offspring," she continued. "It's a matter of pride if a male's children are successful as they were raised within the male's community. It's a matter of pride for mother's too, of course, as the child's first moments were within the mother's womb and the first year the child's life is so dependent upon the mother's milk. But fathers have always been exceptionally protective in nature amongst us. Agronet was unwilling to just forget that he had a child out here. They've never seen each other, but Shir'an was able to get messages to him from time to time in the beginning. Once Ar'shan got old enough, she began sending messages too. He occasionally drops packages with messages for her when he can."

Kevan shook his head in surprise. "She's an adult now. He's been trying to keep tabs on her all this time even though he's never met her?"

"I had no idea," Sarsh'ta said, nodding. "Who mates with whom is considered a personal choice, not a matter of public record. What I read in his file included an inquiry relating to the exiled Rich'ti but it was such a small mention I didn't think anything of it."

"Well I suppose that means that this particular community is less likely to be forgotten if the Brey-hahd attack," Kevan commented with a nod towards Eesh'ket, who had remained silently listening.

"That does not mean that the rest of them are not at risk," Eesh'ket replied. "We may not get along all the time, but we do not leave each other to die when disaster is upon us."

"Okay, so what do we do now?" Kevan asked.

"We?" Eesh'ket questioned.

"Do I have less to lose in this?" Kevan countered.

Sarsh'ta laughed. "You will find our human friend will surprise you in a number of ways, if you haven't noticed that already. Besides, as the human ambassador, shutting him out could have political results later.

"Sometimes he tries to hard, but I like him," Eesh'ket said after a moment's pause.

"It seems to me," Kevan said, "the first thing we'll have to do is get Logur out of power. Then we bring the exiles home so you can be one united people again. Then we get serious about this war finally. You don't seem to be winning it. But just as one united Rich'ti people will be stronger than separate groups, an alliance is stronger than two separate races."

He left Sarsh'ta's 'ambassador' comment alone for the time being. Technically he wasn't. He was just here to observe and make recommendations for the ambassador that would likely follow once some kind of alliance had been finalized. He hadn't originally expected to be here for life. He wondered now if maybe he'd like to.

"I tried to convince Agronet that he should take power from Logur for now, but he was very resistant," Sarsh'ta said. "He holds enough respect that he could hold the seat until the next election, but he doesn't seem to want the job." She sighed with an obvious level of frustration. "He can be so stubborn sometimes!"

"We need to talk to him. How do we get him out here?" Kevan asked.

"We have a few contacts in the cities, but none high enough to get a message directly to him," Eesh'ket said.

"Pergute!" Kevan exclaimed, remembering the brief moment in his room. "If we can get a message to Pergute, he should be able to get it to Agronet."

"Pergute?" Sarsh'ta asked, looking confused. "I don't think he's going to be getting messages to anyone that high up right now. He's going to be laying low until this all blows over in order to not see all our research on your race destroyed."

"No. He's got contacts," Kevan told her. "He was able to tell me briefly, but my room was bugged so he couldn't let me know much. He was involved in something to support Gertat. He tried to warn me that I was in danger but I don't think he anticipated an attack as soon as it happened." He remembered Pergute giving the driver a once-over before leaving, but the Rich'ti hadn't seemed to find anything unusual about him. Obviously Logur's plan had been well laid out. Kevan wondered just how many Rich'ti had been involved in the plot to kill him were also involved in Logur's plot to become Takor.

"Your room wasn't bugged!" Sarsh'ta exclaimed. "I would have known about it if it had been. I was very involved in the preparations for your arrival. And, as for Pergute..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

"Your people have been spying on mine for a long, long time, Sarsh'ta," Kevan said somewhat irritably. "I went to give the schematics for my computer to your technician only to find out that he'd been looking at them for some time already! I don't disbelieve Pergute when he said my room was being monitored as well. It seems in the Rich'ti nature to spy on the other races instead of actually communicating with them!" He found himself getting somewhat more upset than he had meant to and took a deep breath after he had fnished. Sarsh'ta's look was one of surprise. Eesh'ket seemed slightly amused.

"I..." Sarsh'ta seemed at a loss for words.

"If we're going to win this war with the Brey-hahd, then you're going to have to start trusting me. No more listening devices, no more truth drugs," he spared a glance at Eesh'ket as he spoke. "You need to listen to what I'm saying instead of trying to interpret it in some other way than it actually sounded. And we need to stop wasting time with discussion here and get a message out to Agronet through Pergute. Can you do that?" He looked at Eesh'ket, leaving the ball in his court.

"Yes. I believe we can get a message to this Pergute if Sarsh'ta can give us an idea of where to find him," Eesh'ket nodded slowly. "What should this message say?"

"Hmmm," he said, needing to think. "We need him here, so we can talk to him. We need a plan to propose to him. We'll need a way to unseat Logur and put either Agronet, or someone equally trustworthy, in his place.

"Then we need a strategy for fighting the Brey-hahd--something that hasn't been tried before. If we can't beat them outright, then we at least need to hold out until help can arrive. And for that, the sooner I can get a message out the better.

"If the government here is willing to commit to there being a treaty of some kind after the war, then my government should be willing to commit to a war-time alliance. Obviously you'll need to allow our ships in your space."

Sarsh'ta looked caught off guard and Eesh'ket looked stunned, and didn't respond right away. "Do you have any idea how much more complicated it is than that?"

Kevan turned to Sarsh'ta, "You've said before there are many kinds of challenges. In our elections the people all cast votes. The challenge cast is who has the most popular support. There is also a history of those challenges coming in the form of who has the most military backing.

"Now, I'm guessing that in his own right Agronet is charged with the safety of Rich'ti space. If Logur won't agree to changes in order to beat the Brey-hahd, then he's putting your whole race at risk. Agronet should have him arrested, at least for the time being, on those grounds if nothing else. If Agronet has the power to do it, and is able to, then he wins the challenge and by rights should be in charge. Couldn't that be one way to look at it?"

"Nothing like that has ever been done before!" Sarsh'ta protested. "What Logur did is even rare. Most Takor have gained the position by going through the regular trials and proven themselves to be the most capable and worthy of the position. There have been only a few points in history when a Takor has lost a death challenge like this. Most times when there is a death challenge, the Takor successfully defends his position. But even those are rare. The only logical way that Agronet can take the position from Logur right now would be to challenge him as he did Gertat."

"And what if Logur cheats?" Kevan countered. "If it's possible he cheated against Gertat, then it's likely he'd do it again with Agronet. He's playing dirty here to begin with. We don't want to see him kill the most powerful ally we currently have by some trickery when there might be a way to avoid a physical confrontation altogether."

"He has a point there," Eesh'ket nodded. "Without Agronet on our side, we lose all leverage with the population we might have. Are you so sure he could win a challenge, assuming Logur actually fights fairly?"

"If the fight is fair, I have no doubt he will win," she replied, sighing. "But if he cheats to win, we do lose everything. Agronet is honorable. He would certainly fight fairly himself, but that would leave him vulnerable if Logur does not."

"Then we need a legal way to remove Logur from power," Kevan said. "By closing off relations with my people, he is putting yours at risk. I know that convincing the rest of the Rich'ti of that could be tricky though. We need something that will get Logur out of power and Agronet in very quickly. What if Agronet could prove that Logur cheated in the fight with Gertat?"

"That's not going to happen," Sarsh'ta replied, looking angry. "Logur had Gertat's body burned almost immediately after winning the fight. Logur declared him a traitor and did not allow any burial rites or rituals to occur. There was no chance of any medical inspection either. Gertat's home community was in an uproar over it. And anyone that may have helped Logur isn't going to talk while he is in power."

Kevan didn't know what to suggest next. He wasn't supposed to have to make decisions like this. He was supposed to be able to get messages back and forth readily. Cut off like this, he wasn't sure what they'd want him to do.

He slouched down a little, thinking. Of course, he mused, they'd probably advise him to do nothing and wait it out. He could act as an advisor, except that he didn't have any expertise they needed.

With their normal election process compromised, what other options can I suggest? he asked himself. Military coup, revolution, assassination--history was full of those, but it didn't seem like any of them were going to work.

"I guess we need to find a way to make sure he doesn't cheat," he eventually said. "How can we do that?"

"Make it very public, for one," Sarsh'ta suggested.

Kevan snapped his fingers when an idea came to him. The Rich'ti gave him an odd look. "Cheating properly takes preparation and planning. Whether it's taking a drug to increase his own performance, or planting one to decrease Agronet's. We need the challenge to happen in a public forum, at an unexpected time. And not a 'tomorrow at sunrise' kind of thing, but a 'right here, right now' kind of thing. Somewhere too public for Logur to decline or delay. Somewhere in view of your news media would be ideal."

"There are plenty of functions Logur will attend that would be public enough," Sarsh'ta suggested. "Although Agronet is not scheduled to attend any of them that I am aware. He's in strategy meetings and organizing our military efforts right now."

"Their military experts," Eesh'ket said suddenly. "You're in exile now. It would be good for you to start recognizing that Sarsh'ta."

Kevan saw Sarsh'ta's shoulders rise in a slightly defensive position, as if she felt she were about to be challenged and was making ready. She turned to look at Eesh'ket.

"If you are planning to rejoin with the Rich'ti of the cities, then perhaps it is you who needs to change their thinking. The Brey-hahd are unlikely to make the distinction."

"I have allowed you a lot of leeway here, pechute, because of your connections. But your prior position commands no authority here. The human can speak for himself, and doesn't require you to translate for him." Kevan could see that Eesh'ket's body was tensing in one of an offensive position, although he made no motion to move yet.

"I don't think you understand just who you're dealing with, outcast - " Sarsh'ta began.

"Enough! Children please!" Kevan said, managing to keep his tone just below actually yelling at them. "We don't have time for you to quarrel over who's more important here. The Brey-hahd are on the moon right now, possibly planning their attack on this planet. And the Rich'ti currently making the decisions about that problem is likely to get us all killed from the sound of it. Can we focus on the situation at hand please?" They both looked at him with some measure of astonishment.

"I'm starting to think the reason the Brey-hahd have gotten this far is that you are all too busy arguing over who gets to press the trigger," he finished, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Eesh'ket, please send a message to Agronet, insisting that he come and meet with us as discreetly as possible. I'll speak to him when he gets here. Sarsh'ta..." he trailed off, realizing he didn't know what to have her do right then. He thought for a moment before continuing.

"Sarsh'ta, why don't you find out from Ar'shan just how different some of the culture out here is from what you are accustomed to and help fill me in on that. If these people are going to be returning to the cities to help fight the war, then we're going to want to brief them on what to expect as well as brief the city folk so there can be less difficulties."

"I - " Sarsh'ta began, seeming as if she was about to protest. He cut her off before she could say more.

"I, however, will be getting dressed and having some food. It's hard to do all this planning when you're hungry. Afterwards, I'd like to speak with you, Eesh'ket, about the other communities that are out here."

He tried to leave no room for argument, tossing the covers aside and grabbing the pile of folded clothes up. He clenched his teeth as he slid his legs into the pants, realizing that he was still in some pain even though he was doing far better than before he'd taken the drug. There were bruises all over his arms and legs and some across his torso as well. It reminded him briefly of his days in gravball, and wasn't more than he could technically handle. As he yanked the pants on and fastened them closed, Eesh'ket rose and left the hut, giving Kevan an acknowledging nod as he did. Kevan hoped that it meant Eesh'ket was going to go and send the message.

"He'll need to know where to find Pergute," Kevan told Sarsh'ta. "None of this is going to succeed if we don't all work together."

Unlike Eesh'ket, Sarsh'ta gave him the Rich'ti equivallent of a frown as she rose and left. As he put his shirt on, he hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him. He was then distracted by the dishevelled nature of his clothes as he realized just how damaged they had become when he'd fallen. Not all of the blood stains had entirely washed out either, although some areas looked bleached from the efforts to clean them.

He didn't have his shoes, however, and he frowned at that before taking a deep, cleansing breath. He was very aware of the palmpad that still hadn't been returned, although so far he had gotten along well enough without it. Still, he reminded himself, there were going to be a lot of things coming up that he'd want to take notes on. His memory was pretty decent, but he was only human. He snickered a little at that. The expression had a very different meaning to him here.

He stepped out of the hut for the first time and was greeted by mottled sunlight spilling through a treetop canopy of subdued greens. There were other huts around, looking as though they'd been placed randomly. The huts were round, and most of them were low to the ground. He hadn't had to step up out of his, but it looked like most of them had floors a couple feet below the surface.

He saw cook fires in several areas, and smoke gently rising from about half the huts. There were lamps and torches on posts throughout the settlement, but of course none of those were lit then.

Each cook fire was being tended, and huts were being repaired, and gardens were being worked, and children ran and played. For a moment he felt like an anthropologist studying a primitive culture, but these were not primitives by any means.

He walked over to the closest cook fire. The ground was well cleared, but he still watched where he was putting his bare feet. There was a lone female turning big chunks of meat on spits. As the meat cooked she cut pieces and strips off which she set in a big serving bowl.

She didn't seem to notice him as he moved towards her, but then swung around to face him just before he would have gone around in front of her. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before speaking, and it almost felt as if she was appraising him to be the next to go on the spit. She rose from her crouch, knife still in her hand as she addressed him.

"So, you're the human. Been causing a lot of trouble here. I suppose you're wanting food next." She had a weathered look about her that had been unapparent when he'd approached her from behind. He doubted she was far from becoming one of the elders. Her eyes were mismatched - one green and one more of an amber - something he hadn't seen in any of the other Rich'ti he'd met thus far. As he began replying, she crouched down over the bowl and flicked some of the pieces out of it, onto the ground.

"Actually, I am hungry. If ..." he trailed off, looking at the small pile of meat sitting in the dirt. He sighed as she turned and resumed slicing the meat off the spit and carefully placing it into the bowl. His patience with some of the Rich'ti was really starting to wear thin. He moved around and reached for some of the meat sitting in the bowl instead, unwilling to allow the precedent to be set that he could be so easily dismissed. He noticed a few others watching the exchange as he picked a piece of meat out of the bowl.

More quickly than he would have expected, from what he'd seen of the Rich'ti so far, she turned and twisted her wrist around to bring the knife up against his throat. They stood there for a long moment, his hand on the meat and her knife against his neck, their eyes locked.

He forced his breathing to stay even and kept watching her eyes. He couldn't quite read them, but he knew if he backed down he'd lose, and he couldn't afford to lose. There were others watching. He shifted his feet just a little, she didn't seem to notice.

All at once he swept her legs out from under her with one of his while he pushed at her shoulder. She tried to lash out with the knife but was falling out of reach too quickly. She landed on her back. He hopped back expecting her to roll to her feet. His wrestling opponents usually did.

Apparently she wasn't a wrestler. She lay on her back, looking up at him stunned. He took his opportunity.

"Are you going to kill me over a few pieces of meat?" He still held some of it, and held it out for her to see. "Is this worth killing someone over? Have I done something to offend you? No, you didn't even give me the chance to. You were throwing meat on the dirt for me before I'd even had a chance to ask. Where I come from we treat animals better than that."

The female stood up, still brandishing her knife. There was a definite crowd watching. He wished he knew what she was thinking, but she was still unreadable to him.

"Well, if you're going to kill me, get it over with. You might as well, because until you people start behaving like a civilized race there's no chance you're going to stop the Brey-hahd, and when they're tired of abusing you for sport, and when they burn this planet to ashes from orbit... It'd hurt a lot less to die by a knife, I'm sure."

He took a bite of the meat. Through the mouthful he added, "And that meat's burning." After a deep breath he turned his back on her and started walking away. She didn't come after him.

He kept walking, not having any idea where he was headed, but not wanting to appear at all uncertain. He could feel Rich'ti watching him as he walked, their eyes weighing and measuring him with skepticism. He headed towards the other end of the camp, chewing the meat he had slowly as he mulled things over in his mind.

"Kevan?"

He turned to see Ar'shan gesturing him towards one of the larger huts, her head cocked as if both asking him to come but still wary of him at the same time. Repressing a sigh, he nodded his agreement and followed her into the hut.

Inside, was somewhat of a contrast to the scene he had just left behind him. Tools and devices were strewn about the room, some seeming carefully placed on mats made out of thick woven flat grasses, and others just sitting in piles of wires and plastic. Five Rich'ti sat inside, each on a similar grass mat, sitting in a semicircle. Three of them barely glanced up when Kevan entered the room before returning to tinkering with whatever device they held in their hands. One of those looked to be repairing a rifle, similar to what Kevan had seen some Rich'ti in the cities carrying.

The other two stood up when he entered, one holding Kevan's datapad. He winced when he saw it - it had obviously taken quite a beating when he had fallen. The heavy plastic casing had been more shattered than just cracked, although it appeared to have been melted back together in some places and glued in others. The Rich'ti handed it to him right away, and Kevan saw that the screen had been replaced with something that had a faintly greenish tint when held at certain angles. It looked clear, and Kevan wasn't sure if it would work, as he could now see the mechanical bits inside the pad through it.

Without hesitation, Kevan switched it on and the clearish green darkened to a deep green that displayed a slightly wavery but accurate image that he would usually see when it was started up. The two Rich'ti standing before him watched him, seeming anxious as the datapad booted itself up.

"This is Nedrut and this is Segwed," Ar'shan told him, pointing to both of the Rich'ti in turn. "They have been doing what they could to repair your device for you."

"The writing is meaningless to us, so we couldn't be sure if it was displaying right or not," Nedrut said. Kevan tapped one of the icons with a finger, the stylus had been lost. Text from one of his notes came up, and while it was not quite right, it was legible. "Pretty good, all things considered. Thank you," he said, bowing.

"So, how much technology do you have here?" he asked. "Looking around, it almost seems...primitive, but obviously it's not. Just how much are you hiding?"

Segwed looked to Ar'shan, who nodded. "From time to time ships fly over. Sometimes it's to drop off a new outcast, sometimes it's just checking up on us. All they see are small, scattered villages, with torches and crude oil lamps and open cook fires. They see nothing to suggest we might be a threat to them."

"Come with me, human," Ar'shan said, "I will tell you more."

She led him out. He thanked the two technicians once more before following her out. They didn't follow. She led him to another hut. She lit one lamp, and it barely lit the interior after she'd closed the door flap. She set the lamp down and sat, gesturing at a spot for him to sit. He sat facing her, the lamp not quite between them.

"Thousands of Rich'ti have been outcast over hundreds of years. Fewer are being outcast than were at the beginning, but over time populations grow. We are a competitive people in an environment that is not gentle. As the outcast tribes found their identities it was not long before birth rates had to be high for simple survival. They have remained that way. Mating out here is fierce and frequent, and the tribes have swelled over the long years as a result.

"We have been preparing for a long time now to insist on being recognized as Rich'ti, and to end the casting out. Some use words like rebellion--we have been unsure what to do, only sure that we knew we must do something. The yearning to act is in our nature, and we can not simply sit out here and hide much longer. It is an itch we must scratch or die.

"We have long suspected it would be an unusual event that would propel us into motion. Now we have the Brey-hahd invasion and an off-worlder; two extraordinary events. Unusual is not enough of a word for it."

"Recognized how?" Kevan asked. "Just what is it you plan to do? Saying it was a rebellion would suggest you were planning to attack the other Rich'ti, but you don't sound like that's quite what you are planning."

"No. Most of us do not expect to attack them or try to upset their government. There are a few, in the more hostile communities, who harbor anger, but they are outvoted by the majority. We are tired of being considered castoffs, and tired of receiving their criminals to add to our communities, although we are in the habit of giving everyone who arrives here a chance to join us. We have more direct ways of dealing with crime here than just tossing people aside and pretending they don't exist." She snorted, as if disgusted with the very idea, before continuing.

"We want to build cities of our own, without fear that they will try to prevent it. We want trade with them. There are many goods we cannot reproduce here, no matter how much ingenuity we use. And we want them to stop looking at us as the dredges of their society. We're our own community in our own right now. Just because someone was born of a castoff, does not mean that they are automatically someone who would commit a crime. And there are many who were cast out for petty political reasons and never committed any real crime beyond disagreeing with someone who had more power than they did at the time."

"So, how do you plan on accomplishing this?" Kevan could see that the issue was a personal one for Ar'shan, and was curious what they had in mind to resolve it.

"We had planned on a timed movement where all communities would move to sit at the edge of the nearest city until someone was willing to take us seriously," Ar'shan explained. "In the process, we would place ourselves in the paths of the heavy cargo vehicles that transfer large amounts or heavy goods from one city to another. This would interrupt their local trade and gain their attention. We hoped that eventually someone would come to negotiate with us, rather than use direct military force. And, if military force was used, we would attempt to defend ourselves. We've been developing some defensive armor that seems to be holding up well when we test it against the most current of the weapons we've obtained."

"But that plan required more time and patience than we now currently have. We can no longer sit quietly at the edges and hope for a peaceful resolution." She looked frustrated to Kevan.

He found it interesting seeing now that some of her features and fur coloring resembled Agronet. Thinking back on it, he realized that she had had some of the same mannerisms as Agronet had too, when he had first met him and he had been especially suspicious of Kevan. But much of her approach to the situation felt different to him. It made him wonder just how much of that was her mother's influence, and how much was an aspect of Agronet that he may not have had the opportunity to see yet. He hoped the latter, despite Sarsh'ta's indications that Agronet was somewhat willful and prideful. Ar'shan seemed to have accepted Kevan in a way that Agronet hadn't if she was telling him all of this.

"Well, it was probably a good plan. It's just time for a different plan now," he said.

"Since it's just the two of us for a moment," he said after a deep breath, "maybe you can help me with something."

"What?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure this war has to be won in space, and not on the ground. That means ships. I think the ships you have aren't getting the job done, but building new ships is probably going to take too long to be an immediate solution. Even bringing the tribes back into Rich'ti society won't help that as much, because I'm guessing there aren't many out here with the training to be ship crew right away.

"That leaves my people. We have ships of our own, and as far as I know there are far fewer Brey-hahd attacks in our space. If they're concentrating here first, then my people should be sending ships here to help fight them.

"So that brings me to my point. There are probably a number of long-term strategies, but right now we need something shorter-term to keep your people alive. I honestly think that the only thing that's going to save you is to ask for help. From my people, and maybe from other races as well. How do I explain that so that Rich'ti will listen?"