Chapter 5
STRON
“Tomorrow is the day,” Khalzin announced, holding up his glass for a toast.
“A day of great change,” Stron said. He raised his glass, even let it touch the other cups, but he didn't feel it in his gut. Was his mother’s negativity influencing him more than he realized?
He wasn’t sure.
Only thing he did know, that he would not break his commitment now.
“It is a coming of new blood to Kantenan,” Dhomhes said. He looked absolutely giddy about the coming events. Whatever he was scheming Stron hadn’t heard, but he wouldn’t put it past him to do such a thing.
“The future,” Fiviel said, his face the usual stoic expression he wore. The fact that he was here spoke volumes to his enthusiasm. Ever since Fiviel lost his leg, he did not do anything he didn't want to.
“The future,” they all said in unison before drinking from their cups.
Khalzin looked ready. Nervous, but ready. His red skin was even darker than usual, a true sign of nerves.
Tomorrow was the day they all changed their lives forever, whether they proved the science behind Khalzin’s experiment or not.
That was the big idea that kept swirling in Stron's head about all of this. If this process worked, then it would change how the Kantenan species as a whole viewed their place in the universe.
There had always been a unity among their people about their purity as beings. In their religious beliefs as well as the political atmosphere outside of Kantenan.
The ones who controlled the citricite.
They held the power.
And Kantenans were a powerful species.
The concept of diluting that power had many who were privy to this event worried.
Stron’s own mother was one of many. She truly believed mixing races (or something) was an awful idea that would ruin the Kantenans. it went against their religious beliefs, it was heresy.
While his mother was a bit of an extremist, she was not alone. If it worked, it would very much affect people like his mother the most.
And if it didn't work, Khalzin would likely be ruined. He might even have to leave Kantenan.
Stron glanced out into the horizon, just beyond the forcefield of their patio.
The location, a public meeting pod, could be as private or as public as the person who scheduled it wanted it to be.
The forcefield that surrounded the pod could be made transparent or opaque, depending on the user’s wishes.
They were currently set for transparent, displaying the world around them.
In the distance, pods lifted off from their docking port and cruised through the sky.
City towers broke through the treetops. The leaves from errant branches that crawled up the buildings waved as the winds blew through the air.
The sunlight dimmed, casting an orange glow on everything, making normally silvery-white buildings shine golden in the light.
The wind slapped at the forcefields. Debris in the air hit the forcefield, making it have tiny sparkles all around them.
It was a lovely night, perfect for a date.
While a pleasure cruise would be nice, this wasn't a date.
This was a meeting to finalize plans.
Stron kept it in mind to add to his rotation of locations. Females would probably appreciate the aesthetic of it. He didn't care, and he doubted the others did either. It was a neutral location for the four of them to meet.
They were well protected, as four Gol-Vetts would be. Guards stood outside their pod to keep them all safe.
Not that they were defenseless, but it was protocol more than anything.
Being sons of Coalition members had some privilege, after all, but with that also came some negative attention. While threats were uncommon, they still occasionally happened. Gol-Vetts are expected to be the future of the Kantenans. They have value to the society.
Stron took another sip of his drink and watched his friends.
“You are excited,” Fiviel said, staring at Khalzin.
Khalzin nodded. “I don't get many opportunities to prove my father wrong.” He took a long drink off his ale, then smacked the cup on the table. “I needed that.”
Khalzin had long-standing disagreements with his father. It was widely known that the two of them did not see science in the same way.
Amusing, since science was very straightforward, Stron had always thought.
Evidently, in Khalzin’s case, the answers came from how one interpreted the data.
“Is that what this is about for you? Proving that your science is better than your father's?” Dhomhes asked as he picked up one of the bites of food off the tray floating in the center of their pod.
“No,” Khalzin said. A moment of silence, and then, “Somewhat,” he amended.
Dhomhes glanced at Fiviel. “Is it too late to back out?”
“Yes,” both Fiviel and Khalzin said, Khalzin louder than Fiviel.
Dhomhes bowed his head. “Any truly honorable Gol-Vett wouldn't break his word.”
“Are you an honorable Gol-Vett?” Khalzin asked.
Dhomhes smiled.
“I have my reasons for everything,” Dhomhes said. “But I will not forfeit my word. I promised I would make an attempt with your females.”
“Attempt is more than just a greeting,” Fiviel said.
“I can greet. I may even bed a few, if they appeal to me. But it doesn’t mean we’ll mate.”
“You’re going to seduce them?” Khalzin asked.
“Well, if—”
“Enough,” Stron said. “Dhomhes, we know. You're a black rock. We get it. You’re not going to dishonor your family though. Stop antagonizing him.”
Dhomhes smiled again. “It’s best you have someone like me in the initial contact. I would think that would allow for all kinds of data to be acquired.”
If Stron learned one thing about Dhomhes, it was that the male was out for his own benefit before anyone else's. Dhomhes had a secondary agenda to this process, beyond his belief that it wouldn’t work, but so far, Stron had not been able to figure it out yet.
Though it could just be for the novelty of being one of the first to participate. Simple, but also worth the bragging rights.
“Data is what we need,” Khalzin said.
Many were watching how this experiment would wind up, regardless of whether they were waiting for it to succeed or fail.
Their people were strong and prideful. Varying shades of red or red-bronze skin, all with green and brown horns, they were an impressive species. Always easy to find and known for their citricite mines, the Kantenans were a people that could not die out because of xenophobia.
The future was coming.
They needed to be ready for it.
He turned to Khalzin. “So, what is it you need from us?”
“I have communicated with the Galactic Alliance, and typically, there is a welcoming ceremony.”
“I love demonstrating my prowess,” Dhomhes hummed.
“Some of us do not need to demonstrate anything,” Stron said.
Khalzin chuckled. “I want to meet them on the landing platform and have the initial meeting there. I think it's easiest. Rather than traipse the volunteers all over the planet for something that should only take a few minutes. I want us all in formal robes, with our family crests.”
Fiviel groaned.
Khalzin raised his eyebrow. “Problem?”
Fiviel shook his head. “I hate my formal dress.”
“We need to look nice for the initial meeting. We don't want to terrify our future mates.”
“Maybe we do,” Stron muttered.
Khalzin glanced at him. “Having second thoughts?”
“Not second thoughts, no,” Stron said. First thoughts? Yes. But not second thoughts.
“I truly appreciate you doing this for me,” Khalzin said. “Your support for my theory is the best--”
“This is about the Kantenan future,” Fiviel said. “We are here to prove that there are options. If you or if another scientist proposed this, we would have helped.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dhomhes said. “I wouldn't have.”
Khalzin shook his head. “That does not surprise me.”
Stron smirked.
Stron was the first to arrive at the landing platform.
He shouldn't be surprised. He usually was the first to arrive most places. His formal attire felt especially heavy today. Probably because his mother, via hologram last night, pleaded with him not to do this, and how he would be part of the fall of the Kantenan race.
Quite the dramatic monologue.
Were it a performance on stage he would have been thoroughly impressed. Instead, it was his mother, and she used all the dramatic gestures she could in her plead.
Her words still weighed on him this morning though. Was her worry truly black bedrock, or did she have an ore of truth in her words?
It had him wondering if he should walk out there on that platform and become a part of this.
Would his family separate him from their line if he did this? They could.
It had been known to happen, a family separating a child from their line. Disputes that could not be resolved.
He hoped his parents would come around with his new mate.
Assuming it even worked.
Stron let his hand roll over his horn. The texture of the armored bone was strong, and while he felt marks that he'd acquired throughout life, they were still there, and they were fortified.
He'd survived plenty.
And he would survive more. He stood under the sheltered awning, far enough away from the landing platform where the Galactic Alliance ship would land, but close to where the others would come on the platform.
He remained to the side, not drawing attention to himself. He adjusted his robes, keeping himself in the shadows for the time being.
No one seemed to notice an overdressed Kantenan as others prepared for the arrival of the Galactic Alliance ship.
Maintenance workers milled about, almost jogging from this place to that. They checked on the different observation points. Others moved in and out of the nearby lounge, just off the landing platform.
Stron knew they would have introductions immediately, though he didn't know exactly how it would work. Would he have to sit there and wait for dozens of females to be paraded by him? Would he have to walk through them?
He assumed and trusted that Khalzin knew.
A dinner would be prepared for all the Galactic Alliance constituents. Probably peppered with speeches and formality that made Stron want to slam his head into a wall.
It was a long day of formal attire.
“Imagine meeting you here,” Patrie said from behind him.
He turned and she crossed to him, the bottom of her dress barely fluttered by the winds, and the family crest glinting in the early light.
“I have a reason. I wonder what you have?” Stron said. He hoped it was not because of him.
He had finished that relationship, and it was time for him to move on. For her as well.
“Don't flatter yourself. I am organizing the feast for the coming dignitaries. The Coalition requested that I oversee it personally.”
Stron nodded. Naturally, she oversaw the event. Sometimes, he wondered why the Coalition tried to be subtle with their agendas. It would be easier if they would just come out and insist that certain families unite, rather than attempt to push them together through circumstances and subterfuge.
“Interesting that you are overseeing the dignitaries that I am meeting.”
“A bit,” she said, a sly smile on her face. Her horns on her head started to pulse.
“The difference, though,” Stron said, “is that I am here to find a mate.”
Patrie stopped. “Wait, what?”
“I am one of the participants committing to an off-world partner.”
She blinked. “Why would you do that?” She took a few steps closer to him. “Is that why you ended things? Because of this?”
“No. I ended things because I was done.”
She blinked again. Her red skin seemed to get more brown-red around her hairline. “You ended things because you were done?”
He nodded. “Our arrangement had run its course.”
“Yet here you are,” she said, crossing her arms. “Agreeing to commit to a foreigner on our world. All for the sake of, what, Stron? Notoriety?”
“For the honor of helping a friend.”
She shook her head. “That is utter foolishness. And I hope you fall into a shaft,” she muttered as she spun around and walked away.
He didn't know what to say with that, other than he wished her the best of fortunes for the future.
He was going to need it as well, with this whole mess.