Chapter 1: February 20th, 2351 AD

In the vacuum of space, you hover in the zero gravity like a baby trapped in a mother’s womb. The warm voice of a woman can be heard, both calm and soothing. Despite the cold darkness, you feel as if the warm hands of a mother’s embrace engulf you, making you feel safe from anything that would bring you harm. In the distance, the orange star glows intensely. Past it is the continuous array of other stars ... galaxies ... and more ... much more.

I know that you’ve often appeared. You are like a traveler from some distant universe, come to witness events. I’m aware of the concept of who the Kiline are, the harbingers, the first race of beings that our people believe, mythologized to that of gods, observers, and overseers.

At least ... that was for a time. As each year passes in the Itrean calendars, so too do the ancient religions. Old faiths are slowly discarded, and new ones will take their place in an ever-slow rhythm. My people have existed far longer than most of the alien races we’ve met. Our ancient homeworld of Itrea has been rediscovered, the place of our birth. The humans called us Dinosaurs, but we called ourselves Itreans.

Our history is a long path of triumph, success, progress, and ultimately bloodshed. We are a people who can live twice as long as any human being, yet there are times when we reduce our lifespans simply because of conflict. Eons of war have led to revenge and anger toward the other clans. It is a cycle of death ... but a cycle of life.

I place no blame on the male counterpart as the female shares the same responsibility as the male Itreans partook in. For the general part of all Itrean clans, both sexes were created equal. Yet, it was the hand of a woman, a Yutilian, who wanted half of the Itrean population destroyed. In her madness, she unleashed a deadly plague, the great disease that carried her name.

That was 12 Earth years ago, the day I lost my husband. I remember when the news hit our media. I was witnessing the designs of a new ship to eventually carry his name when the first male in front of me began to cough and hack. Suddenly, like clockwork, all the male Shal’rein started to get sick. They spat out blood and cried out in pain as their mates came rushing to them. They grew weaker and weaker. I wondered to myself, “What foul virus did our enemy unleash upon us now? Surely, we can resist it...”

In the course of 50 years, we had defeated the Emphra, the scourge of all life. Then, we did something for the first time in Itrean history. We managed to create a United Itrean Republic when the clans put down their weapons and focused on rebuilding. There was a time when red, green, and purple worked in harmony. There was a time we even debated about every Itrean ship being painted in blue, the color of unity and harmony. For the Itrean idealists, sadly, we wished too much. Even I simply didn’t believe it was possible. Despite this, we still made progress. Any alien race that understood our history to see ourselves reach this point could understand that we were making progress. Sometimes, I wish the Itrean Republic had never fallen because when it failed, it dropped deeper than the deepest oceans of hell.

And then, Zilik’s Disease appeared. The males were gone. The women watched as the sons in their wombs died. Economies nearly crashed. Hospitals were overrun. The Itrean clan wars were called into a ceasefire till a remedy could be found and the damage assessed. Suicide began to take hold as the Itrean mothers couldn’t live with what had happened.

I wept like any mother did. Perhaps I was more fortunate than the others. Besides my mate, I had only one daughter, and that was it. Others had sons who perished. Meanwhile, I watched the other women be selected to undergo surgery to be made into “replacement mates.” Each of the clans nearly fell into their own civil wars just because of the creation of the ivon, the third gender.

Then, the war continued. I begged the Shal’rein Greater Adjuncts to reconsider and convince the Autarch to a complete ceasefire and reinstatement of the United Itrean Republic, but she refused. The new Autarch, the mate and widow of the prior Autarch, was old, stubborn, and used to the days before the Emphra War. In her opinion, the Yutilians unleashed the disease to kill Shal’rein, and in that fact, she was correct. However, she did not know and did not believe that the other clans were equally affected. The other clans wanted the complete decimation of the other ... and so the war continued.

We are a good people, young observer. Even if war decimates our kind, we carry an equal amount of passion. Economies that work. Mateships are abound. Governments, politics, negotiations, trade, movies, and media, we have it all. Couples stay together till death do them part. Never let the guns on our ships scare you, for they are a part of our religion and our very soul.

And with that, I must turn you around. No longer do you face the great star in the distance, but that of a planet. Countless spaceships, coated in dark purple, travel in various directions. Some are heading to the surface. Some are leaving orbit to the nearby gate ring. Commercial space traffic is at an all-time high. Beyond it are thousands of Shal’rein warships, serving as patrols, scanning commercial freighters for anything dangerous.

This was my home. The planet of Shal’tar is one of the two gems of the Shal’rein clan, which is the capital of the subclan Nak’Ko’Ken. It is a world larger than Earth and nearly covered in one vast ocean. The brilliant orange hue of the star makes the water appear purple, the symbol of strength, power, and passion. Yet above the ocean surface are that of enormous low orbital platforms. These massive facilities consist of stardocks, industrial centers, merchant hubs, and shipyards to help maintain the high influx of commercial traffic. They are so huge that they cast a natural shadow, blocking some of the star’s light from reaching the surface. There are a few small island continents that reside above the sea levels, allocated to industrial complexes, homes above the water, and various other planetary defenses.

Of course, much of that doesn’t matter. Our people may be able to operate above the water, but below it is where most of the population resides. Unlike the humans, the Yutilians, the Aksren, or the Alara’jal, we’ve learned to live below the waves. Our vehicles drill below in attempts to construct new underwater dwellings. They can operate below, above, or on the ocean surface. My people are the perfect personification of our adaptability. Much of the Shal’rein history was the sheer fact that no place could stop our expansion.

Except ourselves...

It wasn’t until more recent Itrean history that the Shal’rein subclans began to work together in harmony. Before that, the Yutilians, Aksren, Alara’jal, and Palierans mostly left my people alone, for we were more of a danger to ourselves. Water worlds became battlegrounds as subclans tried to overdominate the other. It wasn’t until after the fall of the Jalgren Empire that the Gok’Shinta and Nak’Ko’Ken subclans announced a partnership treaty under Rototrein’s family. For the next ten thousand years, the Shal’rein operated fluently together. While there were a few close moments, our people worked harmoniously. Even my mateship with Gular’shel was all but common in the intermixed communities. Shal’tar and Zhav’tren serve as the guideposts of our people’s destiny for eons to come.

With my home, I made a decision to say goodbye to it. My friends, other family, associates ... more important matters reside. I blame Zilik’s Disease for the cause, but it’s a convenient excuse on my part. I’m well aware that I’m not in some ordained destiny of the cosmos but that of my prior mate. Gular’shel was perfect in so many ways, but he knew me well.

But this is a tale that isn’t going to be strictly about me. This is about another. I release you from my hold. With a wave of the hand, Shal’tar and every ship in front of you disappears.

Instead, it’s replaced with a new background. The stars and distant galaxies are different here. The human world, named Cebravis, appears before us. The UWA planet is that of pristine beauty, a place that surpasses that of Itrea itself. The great luscious continent can be seen in all its glory, surrounded by clear blue and purple ocean waters. Unlike Shal’tar, the human space force is much smaller even despite this world being a center of population. At least seventy UHN warships reside in three fleets. Commercial spaceships are making trips to and from the nearby tethered gate ring in orbit. The Shal’rein clan would love to call this their home ... perhaps in a time when relations improve.

For now, I bid farewell. A new soul awaits to find me. Like many of the women of Itrea, we’ve had no choice but to move forward. But I’ve learned to be patient in a galaxy of so few men. I know that somebody will eventually show up ... it’s just a matter of when...

Down beneath the puffy clouds of the Northeastern portion of the Cebravin continent lies one of the UHN military bases. The facility of Fort Heavensworth was one of the first to be built almost 100 years ago. It is parked in a vast forest of moderate-sized blue trees. Stone pathways line the walkways to various warehouses where different equipment is stored. A variety of AIO weapon turrets and planetary railgun batteries can be seen in the corners of the base. Various personnel wearing red and blue camouflage uniforms are heading to different buildings, taking care of the tasks around them.

It is just past morning as one man is accompanied by a lone Yutilian. The anthro reptilian woman isn’t like the other Yutilians. Her ancestry is confined to a lone distant world. She has green and brown scales and stands on digitigrade legs. She has no feathers on her arms, legs, head, or tail. Instead, it is that of a pair of small horns on her head. Her clothing consists of a green and black stretch suit that covers her arms, breasts, stomach, and lower extremities. In one of her clawed four-fingered hands was a pair of closed tilons.

The human male beside the Yutilian, however, is more noticeable. The man was much taller, being a little over 6 feet in height when compared to the very short-statured 3-foot Yutilian. He wears the typical red and blue camouflage jumpsuit uniform. Near the top portion of the neckline of his uniform is that of the Petty Officer 1st Class rank insignia. The nametag Scott could be seen as well. This man carries a significant muscular physique. The rolled-up sleeves and sweat on the man’s brow indicate the somewhat warm temperatures. The uniform head cover obscures the man’s dark brown hair, but he has a pale complexion and lacks facial hair. The two individuals seemed to be talking to one another as they continued walking down the main path together.

“Phew...,” Scott said. “Glad we finished up our assignment on the Ben’va’das. What do you think, Xel’di?”

“Bored...,” the Yutilian said in an almost exhausted, heavy Japanese and French-like accent. “It’s the same thing every day.”

The man nodded and kept a straight face. “You can say that again. They need to have more personnel doing what we’re doing. Surely, the men would be flocking to do our assignments.”

“They do,” Xel’di made a few clicks in her voice. “But they become mates to the ship crews...” Her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“Nothing...,” She said with a mild hint of guilty pleasure.

Scott could see the main path leading to the center crossway. Here lay the basis for a large-scale fountain. A small statue of a man could be seen in the center as the dancing hydro jets would squirt water near it. The marble statue of Gabatrix depicts the famous pioneer pointing to the sky almost as if he beckons everyone to take flight. Benches reside where other military staff would sit and relax, listening to the rushing water. A few took brief notice of the lone Yutilian, noting her somewhat different appearance, before looking away again to resume their conversations. The man paused for a moment and looked around. Xel’di did the same thing.

Scott sighed. “You know ... I’ve been thinking. I might want to take leave...”

“You do?” Xel’di asked.

“Yeah ... In the course of three weeks, we’ve been on three different T’rintar ships ... well, ‘lend-leased’ ships. I feel like I need to take a break.”

“I don’t get that option...,” she made a chirp in her statement.

“Sometimes I wish I had the resiliency that you Itreans have. At least you require less sleep. Me? Eight hours if I’m lucky.”

The Yutilian seemed disappointed but kept her attitude neutral. “You would go on leave now if you wished?”

“You said it yourself. I’ve been getting bored. Same thing on every ship. I got a few days I can relax ... might even see family back on Mars. It’s too bad you can’t go on leave with me. Take you with me.”

Xel’di’s eyes lit up a little bit. Her tail stiffened some as she looked at Scott with due diligence. “You ... you would?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean ... you’re my friend. Better than most of the others I’ve met.”

There was a brief moment when the Yutilian saw one of the UHN servicemen holding hands with a T’rintar Aksren. The couple seemed so cute. If Xel’di would blush, she would, but when she turned to look up at Scott again, doubt seemed to fill her senses. She was only starting to get the human concept of being “friend-zoned.” Scott showed no hint of any romantic attraction toward her and had made his prior statement seem nonchalant. She gave a hint of a frown from her snout and tapped her clawed foot to the stone below her.

“What?” Scott asked her. He stared at her and gave a confused look.

“They won’t give me that option,” Xel’di said. “But ... do you mean that?”

“Take you around to show Mars? Sure...”

“In ... what way?”

Scott didn’t understand her line of questioning. “Umm ... I don’t understand.”

“As a friend ... or?”

“As a friend...”

The Yutilian cocked her head and stared intently up at him. “Just ‘as a friend?’”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

Was the man that aloof? Xel’di already knew that Scott knew she was single. Her advances on him seemed dashed in every way possible. At times, the two conversations always seemed borderline intimate but never proceeded anywhere close.

“I mean...,” Scott said. “If you don’t want to go with me, then fine. It’s your call.”

“I’m ... looking for a mate...,” she told him.

“And I’m sure that you’ll find someone. That’s why I was willing to offer to take you to Mars. I have a cousin that you might meet. I know he’s been eyeing that UWAN Itrean mate finder program, but...”

“Then, by the time I meet him, he’ll already have a mate selected,” She made a few clicks in her voice.

“Possibly, but there’s no hurt in trying, right? Are you on the UWAN Itrean mate finder?”

“Yes...”

“You get the hint?” Scott made a smirk to her.

Xel’di could still see that the man just didn’t get it. Did she have to put landing lights on her lower extremities? How could this male bachelor ignore the obvious sight of a single Itrean like her?

Ultimately, she could only be patient and hope that, eventually, Scott would cave into her.

“How old are you?” she asked him.

“Forty, why do you ask?” he questioned her.

“And ... you humans engage in sex before... ‘marriage?’”

“It can happen, yes.”

“You are a virgin ... yes?”

“Ehmm...,” Scott could see that the conversation was spilling over to other personel that could hear it. He gestured her away from the fountain and down one of the paths leading toward the nearby barracks building. When they put enough space between the other people, he continued.

“Yes, I am,” he said without hesitation.

“Sorry,” Xel’di said, realizing her question was potentially excessive. “Us Ko’min...”

“I know...,” he interrupted her. “I work with Itreans long enough to know that the Ko’min people are not necessarily tied down by mateship, that sex is more free and exposed.”

“My point is that I lost my virginity when I was 15...,” Xel’di said with a few clicks in her voice. “In your Earth years. But ... I don’t understand why you have not married or found a mate, that you haven’t had sex.”

“What’s the problem about?” Scott questioned her.

She paused in her question and looked down briefly. “The other Itreans on every ship ... they look at you with interest. Many females ... so little males.”

“I know that ... but I can still choose whom I want.”

“I don’t want you to be sad ... lonely.”

“Sad?” Scott gave a faint smile to her. “I’m not lonely, Xel’di.” He extended his hand and patted her shoulder. “I’ve just learned to be patient.”

“Ehm ... Patience is only so good until you’re dead...” Her voice trailed off, and Scott didn’t hear the last few words.

“What?”

“Nothing...”

Scott turned to look back at the base. The two biggest buildings were the Main Admin, where the COC worked, and the other being the barracks ahead of him. The barracks were rectangular, big enough to carry their own cafeteria, gym, and rooms for thousands of personnel. It was built from brick, had glass windows, and looked like the oldest structure of the entire base. Besides the stone pathway was a row of gardens and silk green grass, properly tended by a few civilian personnel and wheeled automated drones. Behind Scott and past the fountain was the path leading to the main warehouse, where marine personnel stored and maintained some of the UHN Marine vehicles.

“I would like to relax today,” Xel’di said.

“What do you have in mind?” he asked her.

“There is a...,” she seemed to think as her reptilian eyes looked around briefly. “A dance party ... tonight at 18 hundred in the barrack’s courtyard.”

“A dance?” Scott also strongly considered it for a moment. “Hmmm...”

“Do you ... dance?”

“Not particularly well. With Itrean dancing, I know I would be rusty as hell. What about you?”

Xel’di momentarily gripped her arms. “Not good, but...” she made a few clicks in her voice. “I want to try. Many Itreans will show up.”

“Really? How?”

“I hear that some T’rintar Adjuncts are meeting with your COC to discuss the Lend-Lease program.”

“Eh ... and knowing them, they might stop by this dance hall depending on how much they want to take their own private shore leave.”

Xel’di gave a confused look. “I don’t understand.”

“Heh ... you have enough commanders in one place. They’ll do the same thing as anybody else does. They act like they work hard and take excessive time off. I could be wrong, though.”

She kinked her head a little bit as she looked up at him. “Would you like to go to it?”

“Me?” he asked. “I don’t know...” He began to scratch the back of his neck some as he thought about it.

“You should go to it. Meet somebody.”

“Heh ... meet somebody? Xel’di, we work on multiple ships and meet lots of different people all the time. Besides, I wouldn’t mind getting caught up in the news feeds ... talk to some of my family now that we’re done working on the Ben’va’das.”

She seemed disappointed. For some reason, seeing her give that discouraged look drove into the man’s soul. He sighed.

“I’ll think about it...,” he told her.

“Ok ... I’ll see you there,” she said, making a few chirps in her voice.

“If not ... I’ll see you tomorrow at 0800 ... figure out our next possible assignment.”

“Ok...,” she did her quick nods.

With that, the two bid farewell as they dispersed. Scott continued to head in the direction of the barracks...

Scott’s room was not the most luxurious of places. The hint of old building smell seemed to perforate its edges. The carpet and furniture were worn down after prolonged usage. The single bed was barely big enough to house his large frame, and the only connecting restroom with the adjacent neighbors was the only external space beside the main room itself. It wasn’t a particularly large place, but it was at least a place of refuge for the man.

“Hmmm...,” Scott said, looking at the main hanging display on the wall. “No response from the parents. Probably past their bedtime on Mars. Damn, lack of time sync in the galaxy to make decent phone calls anymore.”

The man was dressed in a green and blue shirt and boxer shorts, happy not to be wearing his uniform. He tapped his augmented hand’s projected display, trying to access the main menu screen. Properly interfaced, the UWAN network was established.

“Let’s see what messages I got,” the man said. His eyes perused the emails and phone call messages left behind throughout most of the day. Most of it was spam and other advertisements.

“Meet Itrean women in your area...,” Scott said. “Check out the UWAN Itrean Mate Finder...” He shook his head. “Now they’re sending messages out to every male citizen like it was nothing. I guess the T’rintar clan is really stepping up on that department...”

He tried to close his mind. The advertisements were picking up more and more. The Itrean women were looking for humans, more specifically, men. It was all in hopes of producing children. Trillions of women for millions of bachelors. He remembered the looks of some of the T’rintar women. It wasn’t as if they were salivating to have him, but it wouldn’t have taken much to know that they were still eyeing him. At times, his mind would portray Xel’di, often scantily clad or with no clothes at all.

He chased the thoughts away before he checked another message. This one was left by a person he knew all too well.

“Ah...,” He grunted. His curiosity peaked when he activated his message box.

On the main screen appeared that of a human. She had a dark complexion, most likely being an Oshunian woman. She had long flowing dreadlocks and wore a yellow and black t-shirt. Her small apartment behind her seemed a little worn down.

“Nala...,” Scott said. He didn’t seem all that impressed seeing the recording of her face, but he listened to the message left behind.

“Jeffery...,” Nala said with a strong Oshunian accent. “I ... I wanted to get ahold of you.” She paused as if she were trying to think up what she wanted to say.

Scott closed his hand, shutting down the interface with the main display. He crossed his arms and gave a nonchalant look at the image of his past “girlfriend.”

“What is it?” The man asked with a gruff. He pretty much knew what she was going to ask.

“Hey...” She continued. “I just wanted to get back in touch with you, Jeffery. Look...” She swished her hair a little bit. “I ... Jeremy broke up with me.”

“Ah, huh...,” Scott replied. He could see there was a hint of sadness in her face.

“I ... just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I dumped you for him.”

Scott was shaking his head. “No...”

“And I was thinking that maybe we can hook up again. I don’t know if you can get some time off, but I could...”

The man closed out the message. The display went back to the message box, where he hesitated to delete it.

“Sorry, Nala,” Scott said. “You complained about everything that I did, got a new boyfriend without telling me, dumped me, and now he dumped you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he found an Itrean.”

Scott wasn’t going to hesitate any further. He threw the message in the computer’s trash bin file.

Years of dating her down the drain. Ever since the Itreans arrived, everything changed, and he was well aware of it. He just didn’t know if his future would be with some human woman or the new trending Itrean women.

And why not? Even if he knew that he was a stud, five years ago, there were far more male bachelors. Nala didn’t care that he was handsome. The other women didn’t fare any better either. He thought about going to New Olympia to get married, but from the stories that he heard, once you move there, you never leave. For some men who knew well enough about it, New Olympia used to be the final straw. You were so tired of trying to find a woman that you finally just gave up on wanting to live in any UWA world. But, once the T’rintar clan became an ally two years ago, it became a dose of breath of fresh air. Now, the human women were suddenly in less demand in the course of a month. But was it his destiny for him to date an Itrean?

No, that’s not how they did it. They became mates. Dating was a human term. Itreans didn’t fool around. You either became a mate or moved along.

“It’s going to happen, is it?” he asked himself. “Waiting for the right one to just appear before me ... But, she’s not going to be human...”

Scott wasn’t against the idea of being with an Itrean, far from it. He felt more welcome by them than ever before. However, the concept of dating or lack of dating seemed to confuse him. That, mixed with a culture of women who lost all their men ten years ago, had undoubtedly left a powerful mark on their ambitions.

The man tapped his arms. He looked at the clock and could see that it was nearing 18 hundred hours. He had already finished eating an hour ago. Xel’di would be there, but that wasn’t the sole reason for considering it.

“Ugh ... I’m a terrible dancer,” Scott said to himself. “Fine ... I’ll go.”

Now he had to consider what he was going to wear...

Music echoed in the vast interior room. The courtyard’s lights were kept at a moderate level. The hard concrete floor had a light gray vinyl lining extended over half the room. Basketball and playing equipment were tucked away in the far corner. Most of the chairs and collapsible furniture lined the other side of the area. Drinks and food were set on tables and left behind for the patrons to come and enjoy.

There had to be at least 100 people present. When Scott entered the scene, he could hear the music of Cebravin rock. It was a combination of synth and electric guitar mixed together to produce an almost slow dance beat. Some individuals were already dancing as it was, but it wasn’t a packed event either.

Scott took a quick look. He didn’t know what the attire was for the event. Was it laid back or a more formal party? Did he need to head back and change to something less formal?

From what he could tell, most of the servicemen were dressed in their military dress uniforms. That would no doubt make sense. Dress uniforms were more than allowed in a formal dance party.

Scott straightened his uniform. It consisted of blue and red semi-spandex material and black boots, but no headcover since it was indoors. A series of award pins dawned near his left side, something that he wouldn’t be really allowed to wear on a spaceship due to the fear of something getting snagged during ship operations. The others also wore similar uniforms.

“Good ... I don’t have to change,” Scott said to himself.

He looked around. Scott did recognize that his divisional officer was present. The lieutenant, who was sort of an odd fellow, was already known for his long blue hair and mixed complexion. Supposedly, he was born in one of the Canadian domes on Earth. Because he didn’t operate in a spaceship, he left his hair to grow to the maximum regulation size possible and flung it around his head when he danced in place on the mat. Even his movements were ridiculous, but Scott had to admit that the officer was a good man when not on duty.

The other men and occasional human women were either standing aside, eating, talking amongst themselves, or associating with the Itreans. There were a few other officers, including the XO of the base. He appeared to be talking with other high-ranking Itreans.

The Itreans were a different matter. Scott did see Xel’di in the corner of the room to herself. She was wearing her green and black spandex-like uniform. The Itreans who served in the military didn’t have much when it came to formal military attire. They wore the same thing almost everywhere they went. The civilian Itreans wore more formal attire, but from what Scott could tell, none of the Itreans present were civilians.

Most of the Itreans were the Yutilian variety. Unlike Xel’di, they stood at around four feet in height. Many of them had green, scaly skin, stood on digitigrade legs, and had feathers on their head, arms, and tails. However, a few of them had feathers that were different in size, along with various colored scale patterns. Much like Xel’di, they had a protruding snout and a reminiscent look of their velociraptor ancestors. However, there were a few T’rintar Aksren, with one inching closer toward Scott. The Aksren were known to be slightly taller than the Yutilians. They carried the distinct head crest that went from their snout to near the top of their heads. They lacked feathers and might have had potentially sharper beaks. Unlike the enemy Aksren, the T’rintar Aksren were friendly and had green or red scales.

Then there were a few Shal’rein. The domineering shark-like species was always easy to spot in the room. They were the biggest of the three main Itrean species. Scott was well aware of them. They were the one Itreans that he had to remember looking up when speaking to them. On average, they stood anywhere around seven to nine feet in height. They stood on digitigrade legs and had finned arms, fin-like ears, and finned tails. It was obvious that the Shal’rein were the descendants of sharks from former Earth. However, most of the Shal’rein that Scott met were typically soldiers for the T’rintar. No doubt, since they were the biggest, they carried the heaviest guns and acted as shock troopers when needed. They also usually wore their wrap armor. Scott had to admit it was rare to see the women who weren’t wearing it. Instead, they wore green and purple spandex uniforms. On average, some Shal’rein had hair on their foreheads that were a combination of green, black, or purple. Much like the T’rintar Aksren, the T’rintar Shal’rein were friendly ... most of the time, unlike the more aggressive Shal’rein clan variety.