We Need a Deathworlder!

“We believe we’ve found it. Sending over the location and the rendezvous coordinates for debrief.” a message blinks to Chucknuq’s console.

Knowing the princess has already seen it, he wastes no time lining the ship up to FTL.

-

Chak pulls up the full report as soon as it comes into her feed. Her lower arms twitch and legs shake slightly. Catching herself, she sits down on the side of Simone’s bed. Finally after weeks and weeks of searching for anything… this may very well be the big break.

The Cali reaches over and grabs a pillow. She pulls it in close, embracing it with all four of her limbs. The scent of her stolen Terran still predominantly permeates from it. Closing her glimmering eyes, a memory sinks in.

Back on Kamoi, Simone made a scene by giving loud declarations. At first it was confusing and scary in the way she seemed rather threatening. However her feelings all… shifted… when it became clear that the Terran was making a gesture of genuine assurance. Although there was plenty of performative Terran-grade sarcasm in her words, Chak never felt more genuine comfort in her life. For the first time in this horrible situation that she was in, she believed… everything was going to be okay… that was the moment when Chak felt her hearts sing. And ever since… Simone made them sing louder and louder until her physical words carried the expression. This is love. Real passionate love.

Chak breathes in deeply, pressing her face in the pillow. She is so scared. Not only for the very possible violent conflict required to get Simone back, but also the growing possibility of Simone no longer being-

“No… she’s alive. She’s alive… and fighting. She’s too strong… she’s alive… she has to be.” Chak frantically reassures herself.

But that reassurance is soon replaced by a deep seeded guilt. Simone wouldn’t even be there if it wasn’t for her. She should have tried harder to convince Simone not to leave the ship, or followed her immediately when the shuttle returned. Or… something!

The cycling dread and worries neglect to be remedied by any self-made reassurance. Nothing outside of the conclusion can bring true peace, but the solace of this progress is a bittersweet light in this void of uncertainty.

-

“Exiting FTL.” Chucknuq notifies the entire crew. Soon the Cali siblings meet up on the bridge with the captain.

Without saying a word between them, a holographic map pulls up, revealing a small armada -although perhaps ‘flotilla’ is a more apt title- all awaiting in a staggered armed and battle-ready line for this final vessel to arrive.

Immediately a direct communication line is established to the largest battleship.

“To Kwip-chap, this is the Meluchak. We request King Bromalata’motaas be present.” a Cali’s voice asserts.

“I am present.” Brom assures, “Ease, kin. This is to be a diplomatic matter.”

To this, Chucknuq notices in his readings that all the trained weapons pointed at the Kwip-chap power down to standby. Lifting the tension significantly, if for a time.

“Yes, your majesty. Shall we send a transport shuttle for an in-person debrief? By your order we have collected perendinate intel. Some of which is… concerning.” the voice informs.

Brom looks to his sister, before pondering something in great consideration.

“We will link shuttles between the ships, this is to be a council meeting.” he says, looking right back at the hologram of his flagship.

A moment passes by before a response comes back.

“A few members of the council wish to know if this is regarding the Princess.”

“Indeed, I believe we may have a beneficial alliance to consider.” Brom confirms, “I’ll give details in the meeting.”

“Yes, your majesty. A shuttle with the council aboard will meet at the midpoint in thirty standard minutes.”

“Understood, may the moons protect you.” Brom replies before giving Chak a nod, “I’ll wait in the shuttle, I recommend you bring the drone as security.” he says before making his leave.

Chak scratches the sides of her face in consideration of her next move.

“Would you like for me to come along as well?” Chucknuq offers in absolute loyalty.

“Oh, no. I need you at the helm of this ship if anything… unfortunate were to occur.” the princess replies with a thankful pat on the captain’s shoulder.

“I’ll keep the comms open to you. If you require aid, I will act. This is a superbly dangerous situation.”

“Thank you Chucknuq, but to be honest…” Chak trails off as she turns to prepare, “I was vastly more frightened when I walked into a Terran bar.”

-

Brom shifts uncomfortably as the shuttles meet, and begin locking together. He then glances at his sister in concern.

“I thought you would wear your formal attire for such a gathering… or at the very least bring that awoken…” he says to her.

Chak remains steadfast, fully clad in her power armor. She waits for the shuttle doors to open, her posture well trained and firm.

“Seven is untested when it comes to performing security duties. So, if I’m to be here alone I’ll take the necessary precautions. Be thankful I’m not armed, considering who I’m dealing with.” she responds, already utilizing her ‘dealing with politicians' tone of voice.

“You might as well be… you’re comparable to a Deathworlder with that on. Even if the council was wearing out best gear, yours looks quite a bit more capable.”

“Exactly.”

The doors then unseal and open up to a fairly larger vessel interior. Where Chak’s shuttle is a simple atmosphere-capable transport, Brom’s is a true military troop and vehicle lander. Except where a single land craft would sit, is a makeshift table where four individuals sit. Three females, and a single male. A far cry from the grand council that convenes on the homeworld, though that is what Chak expected.

She can only fully recognize two of the individuals present, and only one of them as an official council member from before the coup.

Chak does her best to not tense up as she focuses on two soldiers in re-painted royal guard armor standing up against the wall behind the table. Newly branded or not, seeing that armor is unnerving. Seeing their grips tighten on their pulse rifles makes Chak ever more sure that suiting up was the correct action to take.

“It is wonderful to see you return to us unharmed King Bromalata’motaas.” the eldest of the council speaks up, giving Brom a deep bow. Before eyeing the princess sternly. “Chakalata’motaas.” she addresses plainly.

“Council member Juna’maas. I do truly hope your sons are safe in these unprecedented times, they proudly served in the military, if I recall.” Chak returned in the same cadence.

Juna’maas’s faded red fur twitches as she keeps unfavorable words from bubbling up.

“They were executed when I fled and helped shape the Tears of Selanu.” is all she says instead, words laced with bitterness.

“My condolences. May the moons cradle them closely.” Chak nods before addressing the next individual, a much younger female of whom she recognises to a lesser extent. She is taller and lankeyer than the average female. Her light brown fur gives her sharp facial features prominence in noticeability .

“Thera’tooma.” Chak addresses as the name comes to mind, “If I recall, you were Thal’lotaas’s assistant?”

Thera’tooma gives the princess a respectful bounce.

“Indeed. Madam Thal’lotaas peacefully stepped down from the council. I, however, refuse to comply with the orders of a tyrant. Especially after hearing what came of the royal family. Although your role in it is uncertain to me, I admit I’ve always had doubts on your direct involvement. I’m relieved to see at least some of those doubts justified.” she says, giving those next to her a lightly smug demeanor.

Chak then looks to the male.

“Forgive me, but I’ve run out of recognized faces. Who may you be?” she asks.

The male returns a short nod, his shortened pink fur barely wavering.

“Kal’nortaas, top of my class in military stratagem. And an old friend of Brom. Both feats granted me this position as temporary counselor.” he replies in a youthful, yet experienced voice.

“And I am Nuch’loam. Former governor of the Miana colony. After being ousted and replaced by a klat hoof-licker, I didn’t hesitate to enlist. I suppose my experience with keeping the peace earned me this spot.” the final member spoke up, completely breaking standard decorum.

Finding this rather refreshing, Chak examines the individual. This woman was shorter than even most males of their species, but the beads, markings, and other dazzling additions of body art really make her stand out. She almost reminds Chak of an ancient oracle or shaman from their people’s past, especially seeing that her horns are long and unfilled. A true statement of a free spirit.

“A pleasure to meet you both.” the princess addresses, “Shall we officially begin?”

The four look to Brom with various expressions of expectation and cautious curiosity.

“Certainly. Kal, what have your scouting teams found?” the prince kicks off.

Kal’nortaas nods before flicking at his Lens, linking to all present to share footage.

“We haven’t been able to get extensive intel on the planet itself, as far as we can tell it’s an uncharted continental Deathworld. If the Terran Net is to be believed, it shares a very similar size and conditions of Earth when it was still a habitable planet. We suspect that’s why this Terran terrorist group has an entire station orbiting it.”

Chak watches the footage of a distant station of concerning quality and size. Although it doesn't compare to most other cross-species inhabitation installations, the fact that something this established out in the middle of nowhere breeds greater perturbation. This, without a doubt, shows that this group is far more formidable than previously considered. They must have funds, resources, and sheer manpower to accomplish this.

“So they take their initiates to this station?” she asks.

“Uncertain. However we have observed them making many shuttle runs with stealth ships, mostly when there is significant disruptive weather activity. We are unsure as to what purpose of those runs are, but it may very well involve their indoctrination techniques. Also, we have yet to confirm… but this planet may have native inhabitants. Unless there is another reason as to why the Children of Gaia haven’t yet attempted any sort of colonization yet… and to add to the complicated nature of all this…” Kal trails off, skipping the footage ahead until a ship jumping out of FTL emerges into view.

Although Chak is no expert by any means when it comes to vessels, she can easily recognize the Terran ship. The Terran Union Military ship, to be precise. There was no official marking or symbol of the Terran Union itself, but nowhere else would you find this particular class of Terran engineering.

The ship is modest in size, and has no significant visible armament. However it is coated in extraordinarily thick armor plating, while moving at such nimble speeds. Indicating that whoever was on that ship required protection at high costs.

“It may not have markings, but it’s certainly a ship from the shipyards of the Terran Highworld Titan. It’s either transporting a Terran Union Official, or someone that has immense connections and can afford to purchase such a ship from the Terran military.” Kal confirms Chak’s thoughts.

Brom leans forward on the table, grievous of the potential.

“If the Terran Union is, in some capacity, backing the Children of Gaia… This could be an incredible blow to galactic relations for the Terrans… Considering what these terrorists have done… if this were to ever get out, being exiled from Central Galactic may be the least of the Terran Union’s problems.” he says, giving his sister a glance.

Horrified, Chak attempts to scratch the side of her helmeted head with her lower limbs.

“The Terran Union in their current state isn't able to be self-reliant. Without their trade networks it would only be a matter of time before they would collapse as a nation. Then their enemies can come in… and very possibly end them as a people.” she agrees.

“And so rids the universe of another destructive deathworder species. How does this concern our plight?” Juna’maas dismisses harshly.

Through the helmet's visor, Chak’s eyes blast in brilliant red. She stares at the aging Cali in well practiced authority.

“Because you will not receive the agreed upon funds if I don’t see the results I was promised, counselor.” she notifies darkly. Regardless of how this woman recognised her status, she is to be reminded of who Chakalata’motaas is.

“Not even two standard months ago we considered you an enemy of the people, and I have yet to be convinced otherwise! Do not forget what company you are currently at the mercy of , or that bounty on your head!” Juna’maas snaps back, unshaken from the display.

“Oh, counselor… if I was an enemy to the people, then bounty or no, it would be your head you should be concerned with.” Chak counters, popping her helmet free to prove her own dismissal of this old woman’s threats. Then to the growing concern of the back guards, Chak slowly begins to maneuver herself around the table to face her more openly.

Brom intends to say something, but this intense behavior from his little sister makes him hesitate. This can very well be a perfect test of her loyalties.

“To question my loyalty to my people is the greatest insult you can bestow upon me. My family, and my entire line have been at the forefront of the people as their guardians for generations upon generations and we’ve served to secure a lasting peace for all that time. We united our people without the need for conflict, we guided our people through famine and disease, we led our people past our moons and into the stars beyond! I intend no different, I want what’s best for all of us. As did all my family, now extinguished. You have always been a vocal critic to my political agendas Juna’maas, but you have no right to sour my name as I stand above the corpses of my slain family. I am princess Chakalata’motaas, heir of the family that is at the core of our species’s identity and progress throughout the ages. Think twice before considering me in the same lot as the man who currently sits on the throne. As I would never sully the good names of your honorable sons by comparing them to the generals and admirals that sided with my father. I promise I will honor the names of Shiv’maas, Tun’maas and Fero’maas. Not only as fallen soldiers, but as the people I am sworn to care for” Chak states, with growing firmness in her stature. She then presses her head in challenge against Juna’maas’s.

“If it’s a challenge you wish to propose, then allow me to be the first to extend it. You may remember me as a stubborn girl with naive dreams and listless aspirations, but I assure you the life I’ve lived in these near four years has been anything but merciful. I’ve been running, thinking myself to be the last of my family. I’ve encountered thousands of bounty hunters, seen what every species looks like with their innards spilled out, and faced an entire galaxy that desired me dead for one reason or another. I’m not scared of anything you have to say to me, whatever pathetic threat or doubt you cast. And yet, I am still that very same girl with those very same naive dreams. I’ve been hardened by the universe in many ways, but I refused to allow myself to be lost along with everything else. I see that as a strength I’m incredibly thankful to have, and if you wish to test that strength… I’m right here.” Chak declares before deactivating the strength enhancers in her power armor, only allowing enough power to allow basic movement.

To Juna’maas’s credit, there’s a glimmer of temptation in her eyes before she caves away from the challenge. Looking down and away from Chak in respect.

“You make yourself clear, your majesty.” she concedes.

Chak brings her power armor back to a more protective state, and steps back to her side of the table.

“Your understanding is appreciated, counselor.” she says in return, before focusing her effort on everyone else, “I need my Terran returned to me if you wish to see the credits agreed upon. That said, what is to be done with the Children of Gaia is a discussion that may coincide with that goal. They could very well bring the end to their species as a whole.”

“Well, the funds may prove pointless if we get caught up in Terran affairs. Princess, why should we risk our ships and crews at any capacity to help a very well proven volatile deathworlder species?” Thera’tooma inquires clinically.

“Simple, they are worth saving. And it seems to me that they may be experiencing something very similar to what occurred with our own government. I have little doubt someone within their leadership has a deep connection with the Children of Gaia, perhaps their leader as well. Regardless, I believe disrupting whatever they are planning here should be our first step. Though I doubt we can outright defeat them, we may be able to stall them, and then inform the rest of the Terran Union government of what is happening. That way, they will have every excuse to act. Allow them to deal with the situation on the grander scale. To the rest of the universe, it will appear like they are being proactive against such terrorist groups. Or at least… give the Union a better chance to remain an entity within the galaxy. Because, whether it be us or someone else, this all won’t remain a hidden secret forever. In return, we may be able to leverage Terran support from our own plight. They could only benefit from improving their image by aiding.” Chak answers.

“So, you intend to blackmail them, then?” Thera’tooma points out.

“No, but that consideration will certainly be useful when it comes to negotiations.” Chak replies.

“If it comes to it, I have no quarrel with resorting to that myself. Too much at stake to be concerned with such a paragon attitude.” Brom interjects.

Chak turns to her brother.

“Perhaps, but do we want to foster a more positive relation with the Terran Union, or have a tense standoff with one of the ‘most volatile’ deathworlders?” Chak counters plainly.

“That’s assuming they won’t want to turn you in for your bounty. If they wanted a strong relationship with the Cali government then siding with our father is the much simpler task. Even with this intel… if they sided with father and aided his plans, which could very well happen if their species is at stake… then our leverage here may prove worthless.” Brom argues.

Despite not wanting to admit it, Chak knew he could very well be right. If the rest of the Terran government is as corrupt as whoever was on that ship in the footage… assuming there is only one…

“Then for the moment… We will keep the focus on my Terran. Find her, and bring her back. Then after that, we learn all we can before we consider taking further action against the Children of Gaia.” the princess agrees.

“I will admit it’s a gamble, but if we played our chips right, we may have Terran firepower behind us when we reclaim our nation.” Kal’nortaas says in thought.

“But first we need those funds.” Juna’mass speaks up, “So send one of your stealth ships with one of my agents. They will board that station and get us further intel on where the Terran in question may be. If we’re lucky, the Terran will be on the station and be able to be retrieved then and there.” she directs.

“Very well.” Kal’nortaas acknowledges, already making the arrangements on his Lens.

“Princess, my agent will need extensive details on your Terran, allow me to record your description.” Juna’maas says, flicking at her own Lens.

Chak nods and smiles softly.

“Her name is Simone Thatch. She was a Terran Union marine before she… moved on from that life. She is tall and physically imposing. Her musculature is exceptional, even for Terrans. She… has scars all over her body. Most noticeable is the one on her jaw, and if exposed…. A particularly nasty scar running up the side of her ribcage. Her fur is exciting and wild, red in color. Her eyes are the most beautiful green… like emerald gemstones. Although they are often narrowed and intimidating, they are softer than a warm morning breeze once you look into them for long enough. And the only time I love to see them closed is when she sleeps, because then, her entire face is allowed to not put up her instinctual wall of hardened demeanor. She is a lovely singer… though she only does so when she believes no one else is around. The music that comes from those lips is like watching a sunset after a long day of struggling and finding that resolution. Her laugh is coarse and loud, and she is incredibly embarrassed by it. But I enjoy listening to it nearly as much as I do her singing. She is so… so kind. Despite hurting so much on the inside, she will always reach out to help others… to a ludicrous degree at times. Her brashness is only rivaled by her bluntness, and although at first, it may come across as rude or disrespectful… she, in truth, is the most honest and genuine person one could ever hope to be close with. She shows her respect by not putting up an act, and by simply being herself. When her arms are around you, you feel as though nothing could ever hurt you as long as you’re there. Feeling safe… does not come close to that sense of absolute security… I have plenty of pictures, I’ll send them to you now.” Chak describes, lost in her own memories of the woman that saved her life in more ways than one.

The entirety of the shuttle is silent, even Brom despite already being in the loop.

“P-princess… this Terran… is she-” Juna’mass begins to say in disbelieving concern before Chak interrupts.

“My mate. Yes.” she says promptly, “She is my family, and I refuse to lose more family.

“Princess… this is-” Juna’maas begins to say in an argumentative and aghast manner, before someone else interupts her again.

“My sister has already freely conceded the throne to me, counselor. There is no agenda to place a Terran there either.” Brom notifies, “That is the other matter I wished to discuss.”

“But your majesty, if something were to happen to you… then this will be a problem.” Juna’maas argues.

“Then hope your agent succeeds, because if I sense any inkling that you have taken action against finding that Terran then I will personally lead the next operation on that Terran-filled station. Do I make myself clear?” he states, reflecting the same gravatas as his sibling from earlier.

“But- Th- you… tradition demands… hmn…” Juna’maas struggles to find ground against the only two living members of the royal family before her, “I’ll do everything in my power to fulfill my duties to you, your majesty. If the Terran lives and is recoverable, she will be. However I must warn you, you two are the last hopes of our people returning to what we once were. I hope the Princess will be so willing to lead our people into prosperity if anything happens to you, even if that means she must drop her relations with a deathworlder to bear forth the next generation.”

“Brom has my full support, counselor. That should be more than satisfactory, and unless the worst does come to pass I won’t consider anyone else but him as the rightful heir. If it does, I will take his place in taking back our home. What happens after that… I’ll be more than happy to come back to the table on the matter. Now if that will be all, I’d very much like to return to my ship. Thank you for your cooperation, I look forward to working with you.” Chak dismissed.

The four consolers tilt their heads down in respect as Brom escorts her back to her smaller shuttle interior.

“We will remain in direct contact with you. If fact, you should remain with the fleet if anything were to happen.” he suggests.

“Agreed.” Chak says, before glancing back to the consolers in mid-quiet discussion, “Thank you, for having my back. I knew as soon as I saw Juna, this discussion could turn sour.”

Brom sways and scratches the side of his head.

“Ahh… you didn’t need me, You really put her in her place. Even I struggle to do that at times.” he brushes off.

“Still… It feels… good to have you on my side again.” Chak replies with a bit of her regal demeanor dissipating.

Brom looks to his sister conflicted.

“Chak… I’m… I’m sorry for what I did. What I assumed. Even now, I fear that I may one day regret saying so… but if by the end of all this, you are who I hope you still are… I’m so sorry…”

“Just shoot my shuttle on the way back then. Save yourself the burden of wondering.” Chak darkly jests, before hooking her lower limbs with his, “I forgive you. And I swear that we'll both see this through to the end. We will bring justice to our family, and destroy everything our father is putting together.”

Brom sighs and wraps his uppers in a long awaited embrace.

“Very well… I do my best to trust you. No shooting shuttles required.”

The two hug for a short moment before Chak steps away.

“Oh, good to hear. I’ll await those reports brother.” she farewells while prepping her shuttle to disconnect.

“Of course.”

-

Chak returns to the Kwip-chap, shuttle thankfully intact. She checks in with Chucknuq, informing him that they are to remain with the present fleet until more information can be acquired.

She then wanders back into Simone’s room and begins to remove her armor. Once she clears her upper half, the thoughts of what is to come if Brom didn’t survive to see their homeworld liberated and what that may mean for her.

Could she abandon her duties and people after everything is said and done? Is she being an entitled, selfish princess!?

Would it be a great injustice if she ended up the last of her line… and ensure herself to be the last? Although Brom is just as likely to survive as her, possibilities of how this could all end haunts her.

And… even if he does survive… what if she’s wrong to assume that the majority of the planetary council won’t demand for her as a female to take the throne? What if they refuse to acknowledge her stepping away from it? What if… she becomes a fugitive from her own people again… with no hope of ever seeing the moons in the skies of Sind’Montas…

Could she do it? Run from her people again? Live this life of constantly running while everyone she cares about is at risk protecting her?

She doesn’t want to be protected. She just wants to live her life the way she desires…

“I am selfish…” she softly chirps, covering her head with all four of her limbs.

Chak lowers herself to the floor, and rests on her knees.

“I don’t know what to do…” she says to an empty room, “What do I do?”

There’s no answer, other than the low hum of the ship’s engine. She listens to it, finding a small comfort from the sound that guided her into slumber.

A bit of reprieving focus comes back to her, but it soon falls to the other more pressing matter. Simone.

She wanted the Terran to be there, to say something that makes her feel better… to hold her and make all these worries melt away…

Her mind drifts to all the times Simone made her feel safe… all the times she had her strong Terran arms around her… Then she recalls Vapor’Perna… while she cried on the balcony… a poisoned Simone caught her in distress… and the Terran said something that made this Cali’s hearts sing out in a burst of relief…

“You’re allowed to be a little selfish Chak.”

Chak wakes up on the floor, uncertain when or for how long sleep has claimed her. It takes her a dazed moment to notice that what woke her is Brom attempting to call her on her Lens. Without hesitation she accepts the incoming request, and before she can get a single word in he relays his urgent message.

“We know where she is, but she doesn’t have long.”