"Undecided," she murmured. "The First does not know. Nor do I. For joining Vadam means a partnership with humanity, and how Roliem will manage is a mystery." Karquier filled the kettles with water. "I suppose this dinner will help the choice, no?" Alaiya had considered if that was why Qaetha had forced her to this trip. Maybe his mind was still intact after all those hits. "It could." There was meat stuck in her teeth. She tongued it. "How do your husbands think?" Karquier asked, handing her a toothpick. "How do yours?" "He doesn't really know. He only fought them four times." Karquier counted the cups, and then produced another mug. "He didn't lose his leg to the humans," she added. "How then?" Karquier made a face. "He fell off a moving car. But if that gets out then he will suicide, whether you visit him or not." Alaiya smiled wryly, before confessing, "Qaetha doesn't like them. He doesn't trust them either. But then, he's trying to change. As for my original husband, he'll start to spit poison the next time he hears about humans. He's already looking green around the cheeks." She probed around her mandibles for hiding leftovers. "That's also a sign of too much alcohol, matron," "I know." The kettle bubbled. "Tea?" she asked. Alaiya nodded. Karquier lowered the kettle on the mugs. Steam erupted from the burnished rims; like a supernatural being tinkering with neat line of volcanoes. "I would say befriend the humans, matron. I offer you my advice with no bias. It will be for the good of the family and state." Alaiya toyed with her spoon. "It is a great risk. There will be many enemies made." "And if not, there will be just as many enemies. Ontom is old, and will stick to its old ways. Let them. Roliem is strong, and we will become stronger still. I heard the Mdama flocked to Vadam before we left." "Mdama is a group of backwater farmers who have felt nothing beyond silt for their entire lives. They have garnered a shred of reputation lately because of their agricultural skills, and there are still many that bring in a larger stock. Movam State, for one," Karquier set the mugs onto trays. "All in good time, mistress. I trust in the matrons." "We will concur," Alaiya replied. It wasn't a reassurance; they will be meeting soon. She scraped the bowl clean. The boys returned, the food served, and without a questioning gap of mindlessness they moved to help Karquier with the tea. Improvement, Alaiya noted. "How are they?" she asked. Lekat responded. "Peaceful. Some of them stalled and did not eat, but eventually their mouths began to work." "Madam Huraii seemed to have no troubles." Buruiu added. "Still hot, matron," Karquier said, passing Alaiya a mug. Buruiu broke off to collect Alaiya's bowl and spoon without a word. He doused them in the sink, the high-velocity water hosing away the grease, and then wiped it shiny and put it back in the shelves. "We'll bring out the tea in ten minutes. Watch until then, hm?" "Yes, madam," they nodded obediently. They were getting better. There wasn't a single stain on their robes, either. Qaetha was wrong. Her boys will become better cooks than warriors. -- [i]Three.[/i] The old man fumbled with his mug. The fashioned clay was ergonomic to sangheili hands, and unsuitable, despite the familiar-looking curves. [i]Two.[/i] Huraii's hand strayed to the tip of her cleaning cloth. [i]One.[/i] The human cursed. The tea spilled. Predictable. She moved to help, a human syllable already forming in her mandibles... "Get away from me!" She ignored him, fussing over him like a child, dabbing away the hot water on the table and his hands and handing him a fresh napkin. He grabbed her arm. "Do you not understand, don't come near me!" A woman beside him scolded him, tugging at his wrist. Huraii snatched her arm away, her expression neutral. Someone rose halfway on the end of the table. Huraii shot him a look, and the human sat back down. She righted the elder's mug and then backed away. Huraii wasn't moved by his tirade. She had been under the matron's service for half her life, and not much could exceed the mistress in terms of patience. She was taught by the matron, personally, each cycle made up of rigid forms and quick thinking. She was also punished, personally, but then punishment usually didn't consist of pain. But then there were a lot of things that were worse than pain. That human on the end of the table was staring at her. Huraii stared back. The human turned his stare to his mug. It was an expansive hall they dined in, with arching columns flowing along the sides of the walls and meeting in a ribbed conjoining on the roof, and lights dotted across the available space in the ceiling. Everything was a series of flexuous contours and moulded curves, painted in matted purple and inlaid with blue and streaks of orange; representing water and coral, a personal touch by the matron to pay homage to Roliem. The old man was fuming. Huraii was tempted to just take his cup away. On the far end of the hall the glass oculus gave view into space. It could've been a great vista, if there wasn't a dead planet right below them, so close you could still see burned out rivers, like veins on a bruise. The old man hurled his cup. It shattered on the deck, tea splashing outwards like melting fingers. Huraii was unimpressed. He stalked off, his cane clacking, the woman after him. Huraii knelt and brushed the remains into her pocket. "Nothing's wrong?" Huraii looked up from the mess, past a pair of shiny leather boots and black trousers, past an abnormally shaped torso, and then up to a human face. For the first time, a human was taller than her. She stood. Now she was taller again. It was that man from before. The one who kept staring at her. "Sorry?" "Nothing's wrong?" the man repeated. Huraii narrowed her eyes. "No? There's nothing wrong." The man seemed flustered for a moment. "Ah, just checking. All good, then," "Yes. All is good." The human stuck his thumbs up and returned to his seat, his face red. Other humans gave him odd glances. Humans, she thought. Strange, strange creatures. -- [i]Hell.[/i] He rushed it. James readjusted his holster again. He rushed it, big time. He didn't even plan what he was going to say, just ran up and blabbered. [i]Hell.[/i] He loosened his tie. He wasn't very good, apparently. Marks had come down. Improve his focus. Improve his skill. Improve his patience. If his pachyderm attitude hadn't won out in the end Christ knew where he'll be now. He guessed they were right. His attention wasn't all that great. The stew they served was drooling, and after two weeks of worker-class rations nutrient bars and protein meals, bits of artificial meat, bread, and fruit, sounding a lot grander than it actually was he had zoned out of the whole scene after the third forkful. He drummed his fingers on the table. He wasn't sure why they put him on this. If they knew he wasn't good, they why was he handling aliens? Hell, he needed to trim his nails, he realised, inspecting his hand. Maybe they thought causing trouble was easy. It is, if you're in a ghetto nightclub. He wasn't in a ghetto nightclub. He was in a luxury cruiser surrounded by aliens, months away from the closest colony, without backup, without contact, and without identification. Causing trouble in a situation like this would probably result in a mass gunfight. And him dying. [i]Hell.[/i] -- "A good dinner?" "One of the humans gave me a performance, but besides that, they were peaceful and ate well, mistress." Alaiya ran a critical eye over the assembly. They huddled next to the oculus, their faces a ruddy hue; raw, reflected sunlight from the nearby star. "They yammer over an event twenty years ago. As I said, these humans are so dramatic." "They certainly do hold grudges, mistress." Lekat and Buruiu trotted past, holding abalone shells and empty mugs. Karquier ushered them into the kitchen, before coming to join them. "They seem to be in a good mood." "Doubtful." "One of them broke a cup, madam," Huraii added. "And my prized set, too." Karquier warmed her hands around her cup. "Didn't bend any of their forks, either. But I was talking about the children." Alaiya eyed one of the women. Hair like that? Terrible. "Good. As I said, time for more than just swordsmanship," she replied distractedly. "Will that concept be implemented throughout the states?" Karquier asked. "It should. And if their matrons have a functioning mind, it will," Alaiya said. "Judging by half the Families throughout Yermo however, I don't know if I should be worried. The smaller states have matrons that can barely string together their own keeps and can't even hold their men in line. The First said they were leaving kaidons to statecraft. That's quite desperate." "Humans apparently let males do most of the governing and whatnot," Karquier said. "I do not care." Karquier glided closer. "How do you think of them, matron?" Alaiya glanced at her for a second. "The humans? There is not much to think about. They have shown nothing beyond placing food in their mouths, and even then they managed to break something." Karquier smiled, blowing on her tea. "Back to the subject - your boys, would you want me to teach them when we return?" Alaiya rubbed her rings. "I do. I'll set up lessons where the youth are taught in droves and any you find in particular, can be taught specially." "Of course, matron," Alaiya sighed. There wasn't much left to do. She nodded at Karquier. "Get Huraii to serve some extra tea." "Showing your hospitality, matron?" she asked. "Not exactly. I want some." Karquier chuckled. "Of course, matron," -- [Edited on 06.21.2012 11:02 PM PDT]