race?"
"Oh, look," the officer said. He spoke not to Maeve, but to another uniformed man still sitting at their table. "Someone taught this little parrot to talk!"
"My Aver is better than yours, human!"
"Forget it, Maeve," Duaal told her. He smiled and leaned back in his chair again, lacing his fingers behind his head. "The man isn't lying. Someone did teach you to speak Aver."
"He is being condescending," Maeve said. "And so are you!"
"That's enough," Tiberius said in the loud, serious voice that usually quieted his crew.
But the man in the CWAAF uniform was not impressed. He crossed his arms glared at Tiberius. "You sure you want to get involved in this, old man? Your kid seems to have better sense."
"This guy is Prian, Sanders," commented the other soldier. He remained in his seat, sipping a strong-smelling drink. He looked up at Tiberius with a sly smirk. "You don't have a problem with the bird-backs at all, do you?"
"Your argument is with me," Maeve shouted. "Let us finish it alone!"
The fairy flared her wings wide and wished she still had her spear. The presence of a sharp blade always seemed to level the field of battle – even verbal battle – between Maeve and her much larger opponents.
The first soldier, Sanders, loomed over Maeve. "Not much good in arguing with pets, even the ones that have learned cute talking tricks. But if you're in a biting mood, little beast, then by all means…" He cracked his knuckles menacingly.
Maeve stood up on her toes and searched for some suitably cutting reply, another man stepped in front of her, eclipsing her view. The newcomer also wore the CWAAF gold-edged green, with gleaming braids on his shoulders. He was a thick-built, dark-skinned Hadrian, like the bartender. The man stood with his back to Maeve and looked at Sanders.
"The Prian is right. That is enough," he said. "You've obviously had enough to drink, Lieutenant Sanders. Report back to the Stalwart at once."
Sanders straightened at once and snapped a salute. "Yes, Commander Kharos."
With a groan, his friend pushed back his drink and got to his feet. "I guess that's enough fun for one day, then. Come on, Sanders."
The two men threw a couple of white cenmark chips on the table and left. A murmur went through the bar; half disappointed, half relieved. Tiberius nodded respectfully to the CWAAF commander.
"I thank you, sir," Maeve said slowly. "Your aid comes unasked, but is no less welcome."
A thin white membrane covered Kharos' eyes, a polarizing filter necessitated by the bright, harsh sun of his homeworld. It was impossible to know exactly what he was looking at, but it did not seem to be Maeve.
"You should get your Arcadian out of here," Kharos told Tiberius. "You don't want more trouble."
Tiberius made a flustered noise and went quite red in the face.
Duaal jumped up. "You're not going to let him talk to you like that, are you? Captain!"
"What about to me?" Maeve asked sharply, but Duaal ignored her.
"No, he's right," Tiberius said grudgingly. "Let's go."
The white stubble on Tiberius' lined cheeks stood out starkly against his darkened face. Reluctantly, Duaal followed Tiberius outside. Maeve remained, fists still clenched on her hips. Commander Kharos said nothing to her.
"Maeve! Come on," Tiberius called, standing in the door. "We have to go!"
She stalked out of the bar, muttering to herself. "Sa'aani shae!" Another night.
________
They found Gripper and Xia a few streets away. It was not difficult. Gripper loomed over everyone else on the crowded walkway. He had stopped to stare at another news station, like the one that Maeve had been studying not long before. The ogreish Arboran's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.
A hundred other people and even passing vehicles halted to stare at Gripper. Some were stunned into silence, but others whispered to each other or shouted at the strange alien. Traffic had ground to a slow trickle and threatened to stop entirely. Nervously, Xia gave
"Oh, look," the officer said. He spoke not to Maeve, but to another uniformed man still sitting at their table. "Someone taught this little parrot to talk!"
"My Aver is better than yours, human!"
"Forget it, Maeve," Duaal told her. He smiled and leaned back in his chair again, lacing his fingers behind his head. "The man isn't lying. Someone did teach you to speak Aver."
"He is being condescending," Maeve said. "And so are you!"
"That's enough," Tiberius said in the loud, serious voice that usually quieted his crew.
But the man in the CWAAF uniform was not impressed. He crossed his arms glared at Tiberius. "You sure you want to get involved in this, old man? Your kid seems to have better sense."
"This guy is Prian, Sanders," commented the other soldier. He remained in his seat, sipping a strong-smelling drink. He looked up at Tiberius with a sly smirk. "You don't have a problem with the bird-backs at all, do you?"
"Your argument is with me," Maeve shouted. "Let us finish it alone!"
The fairy flared her wings wide and wished she still had her spear. The presence of a sharp blade always seemed to level the field of battle – even verbal battle – between Maeve and her much larger opponents.
The first soldier, Sanders, loomed over Maeve. "Not much good in arguing with pets, even the ones that have learned cute talking tricks. But if you're in a biting mood, little beast, then by all means…" He cracked his knuckles menacingly.
Maeve stood up on her toes and searched for some suitably cutting reply, another man stepped in front of her, eclipsing her view. The newcomer also wore the CWAAF gold-edged green, with gleaming braids on his shoulders. He was a thick-built, dark-skinned Hadrian, like the bartender. The man stood with his back to Maeve and looked at Sanders.
"The Prian is right. That is enough," he said. "You've obviously had enough to drink, Lieutenant Sanders. Report back to the Stalwart at once."
Sanders straightened at once and snapped a salute. "Yes, Commander Kharos."
With a groan, his friend pushed back his drink and got to his feet. "I guess that's enough fun for one day, then. Come on, Sanders."
The two men threw a couple of white cenmark chips on the table and left. A murmur went through the bar; half disappointed, half relieved. Tiberius nodded respectfully to the CWAAF commander.
"I thank you, sir," Maeve said slowly. "Your aid comes unasked, but is no less welcome."
A thin white membrane covered Kharos' eyes, a polarizing filter necessitated by the bright, harsh sun of his homeworld. It was impossible to know exactly what he was looking at, but it did not seem to be Maeve.
"You should get your Arcadian out of here," Kharos told Tiberius. "You don't want more trouble."
Tiberius made a flustered noise and went quite red in the face.
Duaal jumped up. "You're not going to let him talk to you like that, are you? Captain!"
"What about to me?" Maeve asked sharply, but Duaal ignored her.
"No, he's right," Tiberius said grudgingly. "Let's go."
The white stubble on Tiberius' lined cheeks stood out starkly against his darkened face. Reluctantly, Duaal followed Tiberius outside. Maeve remained, fists still clenched on her hips. Commander Kharos said nothing to her.
"Maeve! Come on," Tiberius called, standing in the door. "We have to go!"
She stalked out of the bar, muttering to herself. "Sa'aani shae!" Another night.
________
They found Gripper and Xia a few streets away. It was not difficult. Gripper loomed over everyone else on the crowded walkway. He had stopped to stare at another news station, like the one that Maeve had been studying not long before. The ogreish Arboran's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.
A hundred other people and even passing vehicles halted to stare at Gripper. Some were stunned into silence, but others whispered to each other or shouted at the strange alien. Traffic had ground to a slow trickle and threatened to stop entirely. Nervously, Xia gave
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