Chapter 8: Call to Adventure

“I can really go?” Zuki asked, practically dancing on the spot as nervous energy consumed her. Her ears were pricked up, and her eyes were bright, her troubles forgotten.

“It’s ultimately up to your Patriarch,” Jules replied, “but there’s no reason that you can’t come if he permits it. There are already Borealans where you’ll be going, you’ll have food that you can eat, the environment is suitable for your kind. It might be frightening, however. I need to make sure that you’re prepared for that. You’ll be seeing things that you might not understand, things that are completely beyond your comprehension. But you’ll be safe, and you’ll be with me the whole time, you won’t be in any danger.”

“I can do it,” she insisted, nodding her head emphatically. “I’m not scared, I want to do this.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” he chuckled. “I’ve finished writing up the report, so all that’s left to do now is present it to the Patriarch, and get his blessing. If he likes what he sees, then we can leave, and you can hopefully come with us.”

“Are we going now?”

“Yes, I just need to round up the Marines and the Ranger,” he said as he pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped at the screen for a few moments. “Alright, they’re going to meet us at the Patriarch’s house. Time for the moment of truth.”

When they arrived at the wooden dwelling that ringed the tree at the center of the village, Simmons and the others were already waiting for them. Jules couldn’t help but notice that Yuta and Velez were sticking close together now, palling around in a way that they hadn’t done in the days leading up to their encounter. They were invading one another’s personal space, sharing lingering glances, and wry smiles. If it was obvious to Jules, then it must be obvious to the other Marines, too. Velez had not confronted him about his private VR show, so it was safe to assume that there was no function on the helmet to let him know that he had been observed.

“So, your report is all ready?” Simmons asked as Jules approached and greeted them.

“Yes, everything is done. I was up all night putting the finishing touches on it. I have a proposal to present to the Security Council that I think covers all the bases and makes the transition as easy as possible for the Araxie. We’ll have to see what the Patriarch thinks about it. If he gives me the go-ahead, then I’ll be returning to Fort Hamilton as soon as possible.”

“Oh, are you off to the Pinwheel when this all wrapped up?” Edwards asked.

“That’s where the council meets, yes. What about you guys?”

“We’ll be returning to Elysia,” Simmons said, “we’re usually deployed in the capital as part of the Coalition’s commitment to planetary defense.”

“Long, sunny days full of jack squat,” Velez added. “Best gig in the corps.”

“Where’s Bozka?” Jules asked, looking around.

“We sent someone for him,” Yuta said, “he should be here soon.”

After a minute or so, both Yuta and Zuki turned their ears in the same direction, their heads following soon after. There was a short delay before the humans heard it too. Bozka emerged from the trees with two guards wearing ghillie suits in tow, fallen leaves crunching underfoot as they made their way towards the group. They greeted one another, then Bozka turned to Jules expectantly.

“I am told that you have completed your evaluation of my territory, is that right?”

“Yes, Patriarch. I’ve written up a detailed report that I intend to present to the Security Council, along with my recommendation for how to begin integrating Araxie into the Coalition. I’d like to go over it with you and ensure that everything is to your liking. We won’t be doing anything in Araxie territory without your blessing, of course.”

“Very well,” Bozka replied, “how long will it take?”

“Probably a few hours,” Jules said apologetically.

“In that case, we should proceed inside. I will have my people bring refreshments.”

“Do we need to attend?” Velez asked, Simmons giving him a stern glance.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Jules replied. “But I would ask that Sergeant Simmons joins us, just so that he can shed some more light on the military aspects of the proposal. Zuki should come too, her help has been invaluable so far.”

“The rest of you are dismissed,” Simmons said, “I’ll call you when we’re ready to move out. Go back to the house and start packing your gear for the walk out of here.”

There was a chorus of ‘yes Sir’s’ as they moved off, the Patriarch opening the door to his dwelling as his two guards took up position outside. Jules and his colleagues followed behind him and took seats around one of the wooden tables, the light from a flickering candle that was suspended from the ceiling their only illumination. Fortunately, the tablet computer created its own light, its blue glow painting Jules’ face as he began to read.

“And that’s about everything,” Jules said, taking another sip from a clay mug filled with water that had been provided to him by one of the Patriarch’s attendants. “Do you have any more questions?”

It had taken almost three hours to get through everything, and the Patriarch had remained mostly silent throughout, what questions he asked mostly concerning terms and phrases that he didn’t quite understand. Simmons had chipped in to explain military terms, and to provide more context for a lot of what he had contributed to the report, while Zuki hadn’t made a peep. She had watched and listened attentively, but she had so far remained silent. She seemed nervous, not to be in the presence of the Patriarch, but rather worried that he might not permit her to leave the village.

“You spoke of ‘peacekeepers’,” Bozka said. “What is their role, exactly? To help defend us from the Rask?”

“In a way, yes,” Jules replied. “If we garrison some UNN soldiers here, it should dissuade the Rask from attacking. If what you suspect is true, that the Rask are launching clandestine raids in violation of the terms of their agreements with the Coalition, then the presence of Coalition soldiers here should nip that in the bud. They wouldn’t risk exposing themselves and potentially causing an incident. On the other hand, if these Rask are just raiders operating without the knowledge of their government, then the peacekeepers will be able to help you fight them off. If you need help urgently, then we’re not going to wait months for the council to deliberate before we commit, especially when we already have Marines nearby who can be easily redeployed.”

“That will be of great help to us,” Bozka said, “and I have your assurances that our sovereignty will be respected?”

“As outlined in the document, the Coalition won’t take any actions in your territory without your prior approval.”

That seemed to set the Patriarch more at ease, and Jules could understand his apprehension. He was about to sign off on the future of his territory, the decision that he made today would be a tipping point in their history, the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“Then I agree,” Bozka stated, more confident now.

“Excellent,” Jules said, breathing a sigh of relief. If the Patriarch had refused, then all of his work would have been for naught. “If you’d just sign your name at the end of the document next to mine, then we can wrap this up in a neat little bow.”

“A bow?” he asked, confused.

“I just mean that we’ll be finished.”

The Patriarch nodded, reaching across the table as Jules turned the tablet to face him. He hesitated with his claw hovering an inch from the screen.

“What ... do I do now?”

“Just touch your pad against the screen,” Zuki said, “imagine that you have ink on your finger.”

Bozka wrote his name in his own script, it looked like claw marks, vertical like Chinese or Japanese text. It was all Jules needed, and he saved the file, sharing a quick glance with Zuki as she waited with bated breath.

“There is one more thing that I wanted to ask you,” Jules said. “I would like to take Zuki back to the station with me for a short time, a few weeks at the most.”

“Oh?” the Patriarch asked, glancing between the two in surprise. “What for?”

“It’s my belief that bringing along a representative from your territory might help sway the Security Council’s vote in your favor. Having someone in your village learn the ins and outs of Coalition bureaucracy and protocol will be a big help to you in the coming months, too. Zuki is the perfect candidate, she’s shown an affinity for this kind of work, and she has been very helpful during my stay here.”

“Zuki is good at this work?” Bozka asked, making no attempt to disguise his disbelief.

“Mister Lambert says that I may one day become a diplomat,” she said, “that I might learn skills that will benefit the Araxie.”

“I see no reason to refuse, as you have no duties to shirk,” he grumbled. “Very well, if you think that you can be of use to your people, then you have my permission to go with the humans. If nothing else, it will at least keep you out of trouble for a while.”

It was somewhat of a scathing approval, but Jules would take it, and Zuki was struggling to contain her excitement.

“Then that’s all we need,” Jules said, rising from his seat and tucking the tablet under his arm. “On behalf of the UNN and the Coalition, I want to thank you for your hospitality and your assistance during the inspection, Patriarch. I will make sure that your cooperation goes on record.”

“Then it is done?” Bozka asked, “you will return to your people and plead our case?”

“I’m very confident that we can push this proposal through. I don’t expect much opposition from the council, but it’s now my job to see that you get the support that you need.”

“Then we may yet live to see the end of these dark times,” the Patriarch said as he rose from the table. “Zuki, go to the armory and see Jakka, have him outfit you with whatever tools and supplies you need. You are traveling far from home, and the journey will no doubt be arduous. Take care, and do as the humans say.”

“Yes, Patriarch. Thank you,” she said as she left her seat and hurried through the door.

“Will you need any supplies for your journey?” Bozka continued as he turned his attention back to Jules and Simmons. “An escort, perhaps? My scouts know this area better than anyone, and they will see you to your destination safely.”

“No, thank you,” Simmons replied. “We have everything that we need. If you could have one of your people lead us through the traps at the outskirts of the village, however, that would be helpful.”

“Of course,” Bozka replied.

They proceeded outside and said their farewells to the Patriarch, then Jules and Simmons headed back to the dwelling that they had called home for the last few days, one of the two Araxie guards in tow. Edwards and Velez were already waiting, their rucksacks laden with supplies, and their heavy armor once again affixed over their uniforms, while Yuta loitered nearby with her massive rifle slung across her back. Jules and the Sergeant hastily collected their own belongings, and strapped on their armor, clearing out the small wooden hut until it looked just as bare as the state that they had found it in. Again, Jules wondered if the story about the pack that had lived there was a fabrication or not. Maybe he should ask Zuki about it once they were in space, she seemed to be on first-name terms with everyone in the village due to her notoriety. If anyone knew, it would be her.

Speaking of which, the alien was nowhere to be seen yet. Jules adjusted the straps on his armor uncomfortably as he searched the gloom for any sign of her.

“What’s the holdup, Sarge?” Velez asked.

“We’re waiting for Zuki,” he replied, “she’ll be coming with us.”

“Uh, is that a good idea, Sarge? These people have never seen a spaceship before. Riding a dropship up to orbit is probably going to scare the soul out of her.”

“Not my call, Mister Lambert thinks she’ll be useful.”

“She’s adventurous,” Jules added, “I think she’ll do just fine.”

The sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves announced Zuki’s approach, the party turning to see her stumble out from between the nearby trees with what looked like the entire contents of the armory strapped to her body. Every pouch on her vest and every pocket on her shorts was full to bursting with supplies and gadgets, the poor creature weighed down by a rucksack that could have fit three people inside it. She had a large, sword-like blade hanging from her hip in a holster, and one of the crossbows was draped across her chest on a sling along with a bandoleer of iron bolts. She also had one of the camouflaged cloaks draped across her shoulders, she looked about ready to circumnavigate the globe.

“Wait for me,” she huffed, struggling over to them. “Don’t leave without me ... I’m ready!”

“What’s all this?” Jules asked, looking her up and down as she stopped beside him and doubled over to catch her breath.

“You said that we would be traveling far from the village,” she panted, “I brought everything that I might need. I have weapons, food, medicine, and tools.”

“You won’t be needing any of that,” Yuta said, a little more disdainfully than Jules would have liked. “We will only be traversing the jungle for a short while, and then we will be boarding a ship.”

“Oh,” she muttered diffidently, “then what should I leave behind?”

“You won’t have any need of weapons, and you will be provided with all of the food that you require. What else do you have?” Yuta asked, Zuki beginning to look herself over as though she didn’t exactly know. The Ranger sighed and walked over to her, beginning to rummage through her pockets. “What is this?”

“A bundle of kindling,” Zuki replied.

“Unnecessary,” Yuta said as she dropped it to the ground. She pulled out more objects and tools from Zuki’s vest and discarded them in a pile. It was like watching some kind of comedy act, they just kept coming and coming in quantities that didn’t seem possible. All that was lacking was a classic ‘snake in a can’ gag. When the Ranger was done, Zuki’s load had been significantly lightened, and there was a large pile of junk beside her on the ground. Jules could see knives, fishing wire, candles, bundles of fabric. It was as though someone had emptied the bug-out bag of a prepper.

“I won’t need my sewing kit?” Zuki asked, “or my looking glass?”

“No,” Yuta replied, reaching into one of the pouches on Zuki’s belt and pulling out a bundle of what looked like cotton bandages. Zuki stopped her before she dropped it on the pile, plucking it from her hand and replacing it in its leather pouch.

“I need those...”

“The humans have better medicine than anything that you can bring with you,” Yuta insisted, but Zuki wouldn’t budge. Eventually, the Ranger just shrugged and continued her pat-down. “Take your crossbow off, you won’t be needing to shoot anyone where you’re going. The ammo belt too.”

Zuki struggled with the weapon, trying to pull it over her head, but the sling got caught on her rucksack. It then became tangled in the straps of her pack, hanging from her back where she couldn’t reach it. After a few moments of fruitless spinning, Yuta became frustrated and ordered her to turn around, removing her heavy rucksack and the crossbow along with it. She separated the two, and then returned Zuki’s pack to her, placing the weapon on the forest floor.

“Can I keep my cloak?” Zuki asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Yuta replied with another shrug, “but you won’t be using it to hide on a spaceship.”

“We should pick up the pace,” Velez called out as he tapped at the display on his wrist. “The shuttle pilot has found a place to put down that’s only a couple of hours South-East of the village, shouldn’t take us long to get there.”

“Alright, let’s move out,” Simmons said. “Are you good to go, Zuki?”

“I think so,” she said, glancing excitedly at Jules.

“Yuta, take point. Velez and Edwards, I want you watching the civvies.”

“That’s us,” Jules whispered to Zuki with a grin. “Just do as Sergeant Simmons says, he’s our Alpha, so to speak.”

As they set off towards the nearest vine curtain in a rough column formation, Zuki tripped on the discarded crossbow and almost toppled over, Yuta catching her and righting her.

“Try to be more careful,” the Ranger muttered, Zuki smiling apologetically at her.

When they came to the massive wall of plant matter that was strung between two of the stout trees that made up the perimeter of the village, the guard held it open for them, straining to lift the heavy material. The humans walked beneath his arm, Zuki and Yuta ducking through after them, and then the Araxie let it fall back into place behind him. They emerged into the jungle proper, Jules turning to look back at the vines. His eyes were already telling him that there was nothing there, even though he knew better. The camouflage really was effective. Before them lay the minefield of traps and pitfalls, and while Zuki could probably have led them through herself, Jules was happy to have someone a little more ... experienced on hand.

“Trace my steps,” the guard said from beneath his ghillie suit. “Walk where I walk.”

He led them along a winding path, invisible to all but him. Jules had to wonder how many people and animals had succumbed to these traps. Had any Rask even made it this far, and had they met their fate on sharpened poles, or at the bottoms of pits? Yuta was staying conspicuously close to Zuki, perhaps worried that the clumsy alien would trip over her own feet and fall face-first into a landmine or something to that effect.

When they reached the edge, the guard turned back, and Jules took what might be his last look at the hidden village. There was no time for sentimentality, Simmons ordered them to press on, Yuta using her massive machete to cut away some of the hanging vines and undergrowth that was blocking their path.

“It’s been so long since I left the village,” Zuki said as they clambered over roots and squeezed between tree trunks. “There are some jobs that take people deeper into the jungle, like hunting or collecting resources, but I haven’t done any of those for a while.”

“Are you excited?” Jules asked.

“Yes, and a little afraid,” she admitted with a nervous giggle.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said as he paused to hop over a root, “I get scared too. I never liked space travel, I don’t like fieldwork. But sometimes my job calls for it, and I have no choice.”

“You didn’t want to come to Araxie?”

“Not at first, but I’m glad that I did. I’m no adventurer, I don’t do well in jungles and deserts, I’m far better suited to a climate-controlled office that has a drinks machine within walking distance. I guess coming here broadened my horizons. I can see why the Marines choose to stay, even if it’s a little harsh for my sensibilities. This planet really is untamed, there’s nothing artificial or synthetic about it, the people included. So much of my job revolves around formality, protocol, bureaucracy. There’s none of that here. It’s refreshing, in a way.”

“Is it so different from where we’re going?”

“Oh, yes. Where we’re going, even the ground beneath your feet is made of metal, the air that you breathe is treated and recycled. The sky is painted on the roof, and the suns are just giant lamps. It has its upsides, though. The heat and humidity are constant, it never rains, and there’s no mud. You can take a shower any time you want, pick up a sandwich, or have your clothes laundered. You can sleep on a real bed.”

“Our beds aren’t real?” Zuki asked, confused.

“Just wait until you’ve spent the night on a mattress, you’ll never want to go back to a hammock.”

“Some of us like the mud and the heat,” Edwards interjected as he appeared from the thick brush on their right. He and Velez were flanking the group, watching out for any local wildlife. “Me? I can’t sleep on those cushy mattresses, they’re too damned soft. It’s like trying to sleep on a bed of quicksand.”

“Don’t you and the others have to return to orbit every few months so that your joints don’t give out?” Jules asked. “What do you do then?”

“Yeah, they make us take a few weeks of mandatory leave once every six months or so. I’m pretty sure we could handle it if we had to, but the doctors disagree. You ever seen a medic pull rank? It’s scary, they’d give an angry Borealan a run for their money. I hate being out of the high-G,” the Marine grumbled as he waded through a waist-high patch of ferns. “Our bodies adapt to it, our motor functions, too. You end up trying to bring a spoon to your mouth and hitting yourself in the face with it, trying to lift objects and flinging them into the air. The human body wasn’t designed to switch environments on the fly like that, it fucks you up.”

“I can imagine,” Jules mused, the conversation reminding him of the strain that was currently being put on his legs. “I feel like every step down here is a workout. I should start a gym in Elysia, I’d make a killing.”

“A killing is right,” Edwards laughed. “Take it from me, don’t actually work out in this environment. If you have to for some reason, then make sure you drop the weight to account for the gravity. I’ve seen too many Marines injure themselves trying to bench press thirty percent more than they can handle because they eyeballed it. One-point-three Gs doesn’t sound so bad, it’s only thirty percent more than on Earth, right? That is until you actually get here and take your first step, then it’s like someone dropped a sack of rocks on your shoulders.”

“How does it work, gravity?” Zuki asked. “What makes it different where you come from?”

“Gravity is the force you feel that pulls you towards the ground, that makes objects fall,” Jules explained. He couldn’t very well blame her for her ignorance, it wasn’t as if Newtonian theory was something of critical importance to the Araxie in their daily lives as hunters and farmers. “The mass of a planet determines the gravity, so Earth has less mass than Borealis, which means that things fall a little slower and they weigh a little less. When humans travel to Borealis, we weigh more than we should, which makes moving around here harder on us.”

“I think I understand,” she said, turning sideways to squeeze between two tree trunks. “So if I went to Earth, I would weigh less?”

“That’s right, and you’ll be able to experience it for yourself soon enough. UNN ships and stations all have their AG fields set to Earth-standard.”

“AG fields?”

“Artificial gravity fields. Don’t ask me how those work, I might have passed high school physics, but I’m no theoretical physicist.”

“Will it ... be dangerous for me?” she asked, starting to look a little worried.

“No, you won’t be on the station for long enough to incur any ill effects. If you were to stay a lot longer, you would need to take medicine that stops your muscles from atrophying and your bones from losing their density, as well as maintain a pretty strict exercise regimen. Lots of Borealans stay on the station long-term, and they’re able to manage the side effects just fine.”

“Just take it easy for a few days,” Edwards added, “try to stay conscious of the fact that you’re in a different environment so that you don’t break things and walk into walls.”

“I’ll try,” she replied.

They heard the sound of the dropship’s engines long before they emerged into the clearing, the ferns and grasses that carpeted the ground whipped to and fro by the backwash of the idle vessel. Zuki seemed alarmed by the sight of the bulky, ocean-grey ship with its stubby wings and its vectored thrusters, but she followed after her companions obediently as they made their way towards it. She reached up and covered her round ears with her hands as they approached the open landing ramp, her fur blown by the wind, pausing at the bottom as everyone else climbed up into the troop bay.

“It’s alright,” Jules shouted over the din of the engines, extending a hand to her from the top of the ramp. “There’s nothing to be scared of!”

She turned and looked back over her shoulder, perhaps longing for the safety of the dense undergrowth and the darkness of the canopy. For a second, Jules was worried that she might refuse to board the craft. After a moment of hesitation, she took a tentative step up the ramp, her claws clicking against the textured metal. Jules waved her forward, encouraging her up into the troop bay, her hands slowly descending from her ears as she realized that the noise wasn’t as apparent inside. As she stepped into the ship, she stumbled, her eyes wide with alarm as she gripped one of the handholds on the ceiling to stop herself from toppling over.

“W-what’s happening?” she asked.

“Remember, we talked about gravity? This is what it feels like, this is Earth standard.”

“I feel ... weird,” she muttered.

“Take a seat,” Yuta advised, pointing to one of the Borealan-sized crash couches that lined the walls. The troop bay was designed to accommodate multiple species with a dozen or so human-sized seats, and half as many larger ones for Borealans. There were also handholds where a couple of Krell could stand in the walkway.

Zuki sat down in one of the padded chairs, slotting her long tail through a hole in the backrest and squirming for a moment to get into position. Yuta then pulled the safety harness tight around her chest, checking that it wasn’t uncomfortable before taking a seat opposite her. Jules wondered if the aliens were told to take seating arrangements that would balance out their weight across the spacecraft, because a full pack of six must weigh around four thousand pounds, or two tons. That wasn’t trivial by any means.

Jules and the Marines strapped in too, Jules sitting beside Zuki on one of the smaller chairs, reaching over and squeezing her furry hand in an attempt to reassure her.

“We’ll be taking off soon,” he explained, “things might get bumpy. Don’t be afraid, we’re perfectly safe in this ship. The straps will keep you in your chair. See those round windows? If you look through them, you’ll be able to see Araxie from the sky, a bird’s eye view.”

She was holding his hand tightly, her fur still damp with humidity. The deck beneath their feet began to tremble, the engines spooling up as the ramp began to close with a pneumatic hiss. It sealed with a mechanical clunk, the ship rising slowly off the ground as the landing gear stowed in its belly. The dropship wobbled and lurched as it began to climb, the chassis threatening to shake apart as the main engines fired, sending it shooting into the sky on a plume of blue-tinted flame.

Zuki squeezed Jules’ hand as she shut her eyes tightly, but despite her crushing grip, he didn’t try to pull away. If she had to endure the fear and uncertainty of her first spaceflight, then he could handle a little pain on her behalf.

As the dropship rose into the upper atmosphere, the turbulence gradually abated, the shaking and rumbling finally ceasing as the sky outside faded from an azure blue to a darker shade that bordered on black. Yuta and the Marines began to climb out of their seats, Jules unstrapping himself and then leaning over to help Zuki with her harness.

“It’s safe to get up now,” he said, “and you can let go of my hand.”

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered. As the blood returned to Jules’ fingers, he took her arm and helped her up, Zuki standing on unsteady feet as she looked about the cramped bay.

“Go over to one of the windows, take a look outside,” Jules said as he guided her towards one of the portholes. Beyond the reinforced glass was the blackness of space, bright, unfiltered starlight twinkling as the haze of the atmosphere fell away beneath them. Zuki pressed her black nose up against the window, her breath fogging the glass as she peered through the small opening.

Far below was the curvature of the planet, the bands of green jungle that encircled the lakes standing out like oases in the barren stretches of desert. Her green eyes brightened, her fear forgotten as a new sense of wonder overrode it.

“Is that ... my home?” she asked in disbelief.

“You see that ring of greenery down there? That’s Araxie.”

“It looks so small ... I feel like I could hold it in my hand.” The dropship banked, Zuki’s claws screeching against the metal of the hull as she gripped it in alarm. “What are those?” she asked. She was looking out at a cloud of objects, their grey hulls reflecting the sunlight to make them gleam as they floated along in a lazy formation.

“That’s a Coalition planetary defense fleet,” Simmons chimed in from across the troop bay. “That big one is a jump carrier, and the smaller ones nearby are the support fleet. CIWS ships, torpedo frigates, destroyers. Looks like there’s a cruiser in formation too. I think the Martian fleet is posted at Borealis right now, if the carrier is the UNN Saragarhi, then the cruiser might be the Chennai or the Jaipur. The battleships must be deployed somewhere else.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Jules added. “I flew in from Sol on the Saragarhi. I took a ship from Earth to Mars and then transferred to the carrier. I didn’t realize how big they were, it’s like a floating city. There’s a damned grocery store on the ship.”