-Lorthaal- (earlier that day)

  Now that they had finished with the bureaucratic nonsense and starting the entry procedures, Lorthaal was able to breathe a sigh of relief and begin planning the rest of the day's activities and what lay beyond.

  He still wasn't happy that sensor data was going to be unreliable while on planet, but he would deal with it. Woorsiin was very good at his job, and would catch the slightest issue as it came up. Though he would be fighting an uphill battle. On backwaters and early settlement efforts like these, the satellite and station-based sensor networks were rarely set up to what he personally considered an acceptable level of coverage.

  "I know that not every species holds to Ruulothi doctrine, but by the Winds would it hurt them to ever consider safety and security first?"

  His mental grumblings served as a reminder to go down a checklist of tasks to either complete or put into place to ensure a smooth and timely drop off and exfil. He would need to send Voorkar out with Chief Haaslan and his Security Team to provide coverage and deal with any issues that arose with his Command privileges.

  That was already in place.

  Nooraal would need to go with the junior loaders and the cargo to prevent any delivery issues, inventory control and verification, get the delivery contract officially signed off and possibly keep their human crew member on task around his own kind. That he would leave for when they actually landed, and Voorkar would make the notification on his way out the bay doors with the security team.

  “That I will be using Command Privilege for. Sorry in advance, Voorkar.”

  Lorthaal allowed himself a small chuff of amusement at that entire situation. Nooraal would be pissed about being given "scut work", but he would do it. The Human Bloodclaw on the other hand, he had not yet been informed of who exactly they were delivering to. On paper, it was to the Chirleen themselves. Lorthaal himself had only just found out who the receiving party was when Chirleen Space Traffic Control told them of their delivery destination and approved their approach vector. He dearly wished he could be there to see the face Conrad made as the realization hit him.

  But he was the Captain, and such is the cost of command.

  Moving on down the list were some minor tasks. He paused to think, feeling as thought here was something missing. A vibration ran through the ship as Rinvoor corrected for some entry turbulence, and the shaking apparently rattled the idea that he was searching for loose.

  "Ah, yes. Keep the engines warmed up for a quicker take-off procedure."

  Holding onto that thought Lorthaal rode out the worst of the entry, waiting until they were in the middle to lower atmosphere and flying smoothly before calling down to Engineering.

  "Engineering, this is the Captain."

  "Aye. Go ahead, Sir." Kelraan called back. Lorthaal's ears flicked in amused annoyance at his Senior Engineer's lack of proper etiquette. There was nothing to be done about it, the veteran spacer was deeply rooted in his ways and was as likely to suddenly adopt the preferred military precision as a Bloodclaw was to wipe themselves with their Mantle.

  "Keep the engines running on standby when we make planetfall. I want to be out of this system as soon as we are able."

  "Understood. Overtime it is."

  Lorthaal rubbed his brow as the connection cut out again and shook his head with a wry chuckle, reminding himself once more that the engineer was one of the best available if one could put up with him.

  Actively choosing to say nothing more, Lorthaal turned to his Risspal Communications Officer, "Ristith, once we are on final approach, please send a courtesy packet to the human ship informing them of our arrival and imminent delivery."

  "Understood. Package prepped and ready to send once in range."

  Lorthaal went over his mental checklist several more times before being satisfied that all was done that could be.

  The Captain nodded to himself then relaxed back into his Command Chair and enjoyed his helmsman's smooth piloting down to the planet.

  ________________________________________________________________

  -Conrad-

  "Are. You. Kidding ME!"

  Nooraal's voice echoed through the cargo bay. Thankfully his ire was directed at the XO, and not Conrad or Vistiin this time.

  The two of them quietly put their heads down and turned to unload their current crate faster, hoping to be out of the ship before the Loadmaster could turn his attention to them. They were successful, and continued to hear his angry tirade all the way out the bay doors and into the designated Drop Zone. They quietly loitered there until the screaming stopped and they saw Voorkar leave the Cargo Bay, shaking his head. He saw them and chuckled, but said nothing and continued on his way.

  Slowly, Conrad and Vistiin made their way back in to collect more containers. This time, they started closer to the bay doors, trying to keep some relative distance from the Loadmaster.

  Sadly, this time it failed.

  As they worked the container out to where the two of them could grab it and work together, Conrad felt a dark heat from behind him. Pausing, he slowly turned his head to see Nooraal hovering within arm's reach, stewing and gnashing his teeth. The Loadmaster looked down to meet Conrad's eyes. He mentally braced himself for a rabid correction to something, simply said, "Move. Faster."

  Conrad turned back to the container and focused solely on getting it and himself out of the Loadmaster's way.

  Nooraal stormed off as soon as he had an open path, exiting the prepared perimeter and heading towards the town. Conrad and his Risspal partner just looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded. Their mutual understanding forging a silent pact to keep a low profile and get the job done as quickly and cleanly as possible.

  They managed to extract three more containers before Nooraal returned, riding in back of a non-standard trolley jerry rigged with standard cargo docking clamps on the bed. Conrad eyed the truck and estimated that it could only hold a maximum of two standard sized containers, fewer depending on balance needs. This would force more trips and slow down their deliveries, making their already irritable Loadmaster even worse.

  Adding even more fuel to that particular fire, all of the cargo containers were standard sized. This required both Conrad and Vistiin to work together on each crate. Further slowing their progress.

  The final nail in that particular coffin was that because it required two of them for every crate, they couldn't just start loading crates and delivering them until they had all of them off the ship. Then they had to ride with the trolley and unload at the destination.

  "This was either really not very well thought out, or perfectly thought out to piss someone off." Conrad mused.

  "Whatever, not my problem unless I make it mine. Let's get this done."

  It took them nearly an hour in total to safely offload and stage the cargo containers for delivery. By that time Nooraal had gone from a boiling rage to a dull, grumbly simmer. In that entire time, neither Conrad nor Vistiin had said more than a handful of coordinating words to each other so as to stay beneath Nooraal's notice.

  Once the initial moves were finally done, Conrad volunteered to bite the bullet and advise the Loadmaster they were ready to move on.

  Nooraal huffed at him, "Fine, but we are doing this my way. Three crates per trip. The two of you in back, clamp on and enjoy the ride. Let's move."

  "Yes, Sir." Conrad saluted and signaled to Vistiin to start the transfers. The hardest part of the process was figuring out how to get the two exo-suits locked in properly. But they figured it out fast enough and then were on their way to the delivery point, with Nooraal grumbling in discomfort at the limited spacing up front. The poor Chirleen driver didn't even dare attempt to say anything and just focused on his job.

  Like most grav trucks, the ride was smooth but loud. For some reason the Galactic made grav drives had a background whine to them that grated on him. Conrad and Vistiin spoke to each other on the ride, trying to figure out just why Nooraal was so pissed. Their general consensus was that he had been hoping to barter for some materials to trade up on later, and his current tasks were getting in the way of that.

  As their conversation meandered the truck passed by a large open-air market selling all sorts of things. An unintelligible growl and huff from up front lent weight to their earlier suspicions, and they got a laugh out of it, even if it was just a quiet one.

  It was in that moment of quiet that Conrad heard something that he never expected to hear.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "Holy Shit!"

  He almost didn't believe it, something about it just didn't seem real. But hearing English on this side of the Gulf when he had been speaking nothing but GalStan for months made it stand out like a Star in the void. He bolted upright, his head whipping around to find the source. His hurried scan of his surroundings landing on what had to be a hallucination.

  Two blonde women standing in a sea of birds, gawking and pointing at him.

  The sight was so jarring that his brain refused to process it until one of them actually moved and waved enthusiastically at him. Even then, it was only the habit of waving back to people that allowed him to give a dopey little half wave.

  As the truck moved past and the girls went out of sight, Conrad became aware of Vistiin's hissing laughter getting louder and more frantic. The sound brought him back to the present and he glowered at his crewmate.

  "What are you laughing at?"

  "You look like a hatchling with its tail caught in the door. Is that why you are with us? Cause you can't handle your own species?!"

  "Oi! Ya mingin bampot!" It was only after he said it that Conrad realized that he had spoken in his native tongue rather than GalStan, the act granting Vistiin got another laugh at his expense due to his loss of cognitive control. He shook himself to refocus, this whole situation had him rattled, but Vistiin's words also meant that he wasn't randomly hallucinating either.

  "I can handle my people just fine, thank you. I just didn't expect to see any humans here of all places. Much less two women as surprised to see me as I was them."

  Vistiin's expression became much more contemplative, "Ahh. I see. So they were attractive, yes?"

  Conrad glowered at him, "That also has nothing to do with it. Get your head out of the damned sewer pipes."

  He went over the whole thing in his head again then crossed his arms and slumped before grumping quietly as he realized he had made an absolute idiot of himself for a first impression, "Shit. Yeah, yeah they were."

  _______________________________________

  Conrad leaned out around the side of the truck, taking in the encampment as they arrived. Human Military style reinforced sand and dirt barriers were stacked in a wide perimeter around a ship whose make he didn't recognize, but knew it to be of human design. The compound outside of it was being run by a mix of Humans in scrubs and Chirleen. The tents of the compound bore the well known logo of the Hospitallers, revealing to him the reason for the Human presence on planet.

  Still, he was surprised that they were here. Last he knew there was no cross cultural aid flowing.

  "But maybe that has changed? Odd for it to have changed so quickly. Politics is usually glacial. Hmm. Guess I might be needed here more than I thought. No guarantee that they all speak GalStan, or that the cultural barriers can be sidestepped."

  He can feel Nooraal and Vistiin's attention on him as they likely came to similar conclusions about his presence. They appeared to be just as surprised as Conrad at the level of human presence and activity on the planet, though Vistiin at least had some forewarning from earlier.

  The Chirleen driver brought the truck to a break in the barriers that had a compacted dirt road leading inside. There he slowed and waved to a pair of humans standing guard and chittered at them. The two looked at their wrist computers and typed a response which chirped back to the Chirleen, who then turned to Nooraal and waved him forward.

  Nooraal growled back, "Conrad!" as he got out of the truck to greet the guards and give them the cargo list, but quickly grew frustrated when they gave him blank stares. Conrad understood the issue when they spoke in broken GalStan to him, "Apologies. New speaking Galactic."

  Conrad's distant laughter redirected Nooraal's bad mood from them to him. Conrad unclamped himself from the truck and came around the side to introduce himself as Nooraal grumbled in frustration.

  "No worries. I can run the translations and procedures for you, so long as you are OK with it."

  Both men looked at him in surprise, then at each other, before what he could only assume was the Senior of the two gave him a quick nod.

  "That would be perfect. How did you?... You know what. It doesn't matter; it's not really our business. Though we'd love the story of how you came to be working for Ruulothi traders from you if you get the chance. I do need your names, though. I'm James, he's Mike."

  "Of course. I’m Conrad, this here is Nooraal, and back there is Vestiin. Nooraal is the Loadmaster of the ship and in control of the cargo, Vistiin and I are the Loaders. This here is the manifest and delivery order marking these three crates as food stuffs as well as listing out the rest that we will be bringing. See the corresponding notations here on the page and there on the crates? That's the Galactic's cargo codes."

  James took the offered delivery slip and looked at the markers on the crates. "Right, didn’t have much warning about y’all showing up. ‘Fraid we are shooting from the hip at the moment. Now let’s see here. Looks like all told you’re bringing provisions and medical supplies? That word there is... Not food... exactly. Ehh. One of those shared base words?"

  "You got it." Conrad nodded and leaned in to assist, "That word in particular means Store Food. Not as in store bought but more like non-perishables. We could probably read it as Store-ABLE food."

  "Gotcha." James briefly read over the rest of the lines for the crates they had. Conrad suspected he was putting what limited knowledge he had to work identifying root related words. But, he was either confident enough or oblivious enough to not find any sort of fault in their paperwork.

  "Hmm, and there are... Hot damn. Another Thirty-three crates? Am I seeing that right?" James leaned around to double check the size of the crates, squinting at them. "How big are those?"

  "Four by Four by Eight Tals. Or just over Two by Two by Four in meters. Conrad responded as he did a quick mental inventory of the cargo they had unloaded today. "Eighteen Cradles with two full sized crates each, completely empty Bay and three here..."

  "And yes, your count is right."

  "Hmmm. I think the only place we would have immediate room is in the parade grounds towards the rear of the Renatus. I'll radio Vincent and have him meet you there. He’s our own.. Uh.. Loadmaster. He will take inventory and sign for delivery. If I have Mike guide you back to the right place, can you drop him off on the way out?"

  Conrad relayed the information to Nooraal who chuffed and nodded in agreement before climbing back into the passenger seat, eager to get moving.

  "Yeah, we can do that."

  James tipped his chin in the direction of the departing Ruulothi, "Not much of a people person, is he?"

  "Ehh. He grows on you. Also, his plans for this trip just scattered on the winds. So he's crankier than usual." He turned to the other guard, "Mike, right? Alright. Follow me, going to be a bit of an odd ride. I'm going to clamp down back here to keep the suit from falling off, then I'll pull you up. Just... Hang on as best you can, I guess? Shouldn't be too far, right?"

  "Not really, and don't worry about me." Mike shook his head as he scampered up the outside of the truck, then jumped off the rail and vaulted himself on top of the cargo crate before looking down and nodding at Vistiin, "Hi."

  Vistiin watched the ease with which he scaled the entire truck and load with something approaching awe. Conrad smirked, "He says 'Hi', by the way."

  Vistiin snapped his gaze back to him, "Scaleless slooks, the lot of you." His voice seeming more than impressed.

  Conrad snorted and waved up to Mike, "He says 'Hi' back."

  "Right, well. I'm going to go up front and point them in the right direction from up here. Not much room anywhere else. See ya there."

  As they got moving again through the access road Conrad nudged Vistiin with his foot, "So, a Slook?"

  He just shrugged at him, "A pest from home. They are constantly getting into places they shouldn't and can climb almost anything."

  "Hmm. Sounds kinda like anoles or geckos, though we are more like monkeys than lizards. We'll have to have a show and tell later. You in particular look rather... Skinky."

  Vistiin's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "I will withhold judgement... For now. But if you are comparing me to a scale-rotted carrion eater, I will kick your ass up and down the cargo bay."

  Conrad laughed. He waited a moment for Vistiin to lose focus before firing back one last quip with a grin, "Hey, don't we all eat dead things?"

  __________________________________________________________________________

  The unloading and paperwork was straightforward and quick. Vincent respected the idea that they were trying to get through the delivery and be off as soon as possible by limiting conversation to the minimum required for the job. He gave permission for them to come and go with only a brief check from the guards to make sure there were no unlisted extras or personnel changes and promised to be on hand for each delivery to sign the required paperwork.

  Now that they knew where everything was to go it became a matter of just how fast they could load and unload. They returned to the staging area, reloaded, and returned to the drop off zone in but few minutes. They got a fair few odd looks while making the deliveries, but at this point they were used to it. Conrad managed to have a couple of very quick talks with a few people, but it was only in passing with those that were in between jobs.

  It wasn't until they were leaving again that Conrad noticed a change in the feeling of the place. He noticed a few of the Chirleen workers clustering in groups outside and a nervous energy coursing through both the patients and workers.

  Unfortunately, he wasn't able to effectively communicate with their driver to get an answer on it. But he didn't think it would have mattered as he seemed more focused on his job.

  The return trip showed that the nerves he had seen weren't an isolated problem. The entire mood of the town had changed to a much more reserved and cautious one. Even Vistiin and Nooraal had picked up on it and were eyeing things warily.

  Then, the sound of the Wind Runner's engines cycling up caught all of their attention, and Nooraal's panicked yelling caused the driver to accelerate down the road.

  __________________________________________________________________________

  -Kelraan-

  "Alright boys! This is the real shit! We are going into COM-BAT! Emergency lift-off procedures! Get to your stations and strap in. Furnaal, eyes on those gauges and keep those engines cycling in sync until we are properly airborne! Stiirl, make sure the core doesn't overclock! We kept it warm but this is a high stress take off with rapid emergency maneuvers to follow. Keep watch and communicate everything! MOVE!"

  Kelraan's voice cut through the combat alarm as he locked the access hatch to the engine room per combat regulations. He watched a moment to ensure his charges were doing as they should be, then moved to his own station to manage the gravity drive.

  He had kept the most difficult and potentially important job for himself. If the gravity drive failed, there was no takeoff or flight. Of all the benefits from having artificial gravity onboard the ship, its ability to dampen inertial forces and be directed outwards to keep a ship hovering in relative place until the engines took over was far and above its most important feature for landing capable ships like the Wind Runner. The problem was they pulled a ridiculous amount of power to do so, making the balancing act he and his juniors were now putting on a delicate team act.

  "And it's always touchy without a proper startup sequence. Plaguewinds! We aren't supposed to be fighting in atmo!"

  Kelraan activated the grav-emitters as the core spooled up to meet the demands being place upon it. He listened for the engine revolutions to start rising and poured power to the emitters. The emitters themselves were slaved to the helmsman's control panel, granting Rinvoor full control over the ship even at lower altitudes. But the power distribution itself needed to be watched in this situation to prevent an overload or underload from compromising the flight and stability of the ship thanks to maneuvers and weaponry pushing the power loads beyond normal operations. All the individual parts simply weren't meant to be used together in this manner.

  "But here we are anyway."

  His experienced ears caught a low groan and stutter from the Port Engine as the workload increased to maneuvering speed, but Furnaal was on top of it.

  "Exhaust restriction on Port Engine! Flaring valves to clear." The young Ruulothi cranked a switch on his console and a pop echoed from the engine in question, clearing the stutter and allowing it to cycle fully again. "Restriction cleared. Engines running in tandem."

  The ship began to tip and roll as the battle was joined, both the engines and grav drive straining to meet the demands of the helmsman. Their combat chairs held them in place during the maneuvers, and through the deck plates he felt the faint thumps of the ship's EMR cannon firing.

  "The Core is holding, but output and heat are slowly rising to caution levels. We won't be able to do this forever." Stiirl called out.

  "We just have to keep it up as long as possible." Kelraan replied. His words punctuated by the loud bangs of incoming fire striking the hull. His charges throwing the sounds quick nervous glances before returning to their tasks.

  "We'll be setting down again shortly." He told them. Then quieter, "One way or another."

  Another hit caused an underload in the grav drive, forcing Kelraan to re-balance the power between the emitters until it was recovered. Then a louder bang that shook their entire compartment caused all power outputs to plummet for a moment.

  "Ship's power matrix is struggling! Incoming fire is disrupting the network!" Stiirl yelled. As the internal gravity went out and inertia slammed into them for a brief moment before the system came back online and the pressure eased off.

  "It can't handle the rapid surges in passive format!" Kelraan knew what the problem was and wasn't in position to fix it. But his boys knew their jobs.

  "Assign distribution patterns by sector! That should let it isolate disruptions and compensate regionally instead of globally."

  "Aye! Already working... Patterns assigned! Network is recovering."

  Kelraan nodded to himself, "Good, now..."

  THWOOM!!

  Heat rushed through the compartment as an explosion shook the ship and the thruster of the Starboard engine was torn apart by incoming fire, throwing shrapnel and escaping plasma, buckling the surrounding hull and ripping apart power channels. Spalling blew through the Engine Room, narrowly missing the three vulnerable engineers. The Port engine screamed as it redlined to compensate for the loss of its partner.

  "Damage Reports!"

  "Starboard engine and thruster are GONE! Port engine is struggling! Hull breach in the compartment! We are no longer space worthy!" Furnaal yelled back. Followed immediately by Stiirl.

  "Core cycles spiking. Aft power matrix heavily damaged. Tying processes to central matrix to compensate."

  "Good kids." Kelraan thought as his hands flew across his interface, sending updates to the bridge to reflect the known damage.

  Then he froze and his blood ran cold.

  Amidst the hellish screaming of the Port engine and the dying echoes of the destroyed Starboard engine, his veteran ears picked up a pulsing shudder from the Radial Plasma Core.

  "What!?" he heard Stiirl gasp. "Oh, Hells! Sir! Core temperature and pressure are soaring!" He furiously tapped at his station, then slammed it, "Shrapnel took out the timing regulator! Injector control has failed and the mag field is collapsing!"

  The young Risspal gave a forlorn look to the other two, "Safety mechanisms have failed."

  "Shunt all power to the matrix! Emergency Manual Shutdown!"

  "Power transferred. Shutdown... failed. Its... on runaway, Sir."

  Kelraan watched the core begin to change color as the plasma within escaped containment and began eating at and heating up the inner mechanisms. He saw his charges look from the core to the hatch door and then to him. He just slowly shook his head as he sighed in resignation.

  "Sorry, can't risk the rest of the ship."

  He looked both of his Juniors in the eyes, "You boys did me pro..."

  The runaway plasma in the core finally compromised its container and erupted, consuming the air in the engine room and replacing it as it rapidly expanded, incinerating everything inside of it and heat welding the exit hatch in place. The mounting pressure triggered a system of blow out panels and ruptured the earlier micro breaches in reverse, ejecting the core's plasma out into the atmosphere in a brilliant explosion that trailed the now falling ship back to the surface.