Chapter 15: The Dust Settles...

It was late at night...

Cipra’s darkness was well apparent in the landscape. However, some of the building structure lights were seen. Various shuttles were coming and going. The UHN Rio De Janeiro brought a small contingent of marines near the northern side of the capital. This was soon to be followed by numerous shuttles that were deployed by the allied fleets. They went to every pocket of the area to begin placing more staff, soldiers, and aids to help assess the conditions of the various Aksren hideouts. No further bloodshed occurred as of yet. The surrender of the Aksren forces marked the completion of such an event.

A large set of lights was established on the MMACC and surviving UHN ground vehicles. A vast camp site, tents, and headquarters post were placed around it. The top of the MMACC had the virtually untouched bomber that rested on the top of the deck. However, the crawler was faced with an uncountable number of battle scars. There were numerous railgun shatter points all along the armor. Holes perforated the interior decks. The sides displayed charred marks from multiple impacts of various rounds. The same could be said with the other vehicles that were abandoned or converted to makeshift rooms and tents. A small amount of smoke billowed from the top interior of the crawler.

In one of these established tents was that of the medical ward. It was easy to understand that war brought upon those that needed to be properly treated. Various marines were stripped of their power armor as corpsmen would have to evaluate the multiple treatments required in caring for the injured or dead. Among one of the many beds that rested over the grass was that of Zalika. The towering mech of Bekra had remained by her side. At the same time, Dean and Iz’tre were not far from the two sitting in laid-back chairs. Zalika was wide awake as she moved herself to a sitting position. Her condition was nominal but at a great cost. Her right leg was missing. Proper machinery was attached to it to care for her system.

“Well...,” Zalika commented. “I have an augmented arm ... you get a new leg ... after I shot it off, and now ... I get my leg shot off too. Karma is a bitch.”

“You did what you had to do,” Bekra told her in her deep female robotic-like voice. “I have no grievance with the actions that you took months ago to save my life.”

“Well ... there’s going to be less of me now ... going to get some gimpy augmented leg to replace it. It’s not going to bother you?”

“You are my mate. There is no argument.”

“Speaking of which ... when are they going to get you your real body back?”

“Soon, Zalika. I will head to the UHN Gladiator tomorrow to retrieve my body and undergo surgery for the brain transference.”

“Good ... not bad, though. If you had the parts for it, I wouldn’t have had a problem letting you take a go at me ... even with me in the reduced state as it is.”

Bekra took her shield and gently placed it on the bed. “I will guard you and take up watch for tonight. I promise not to leave your side as you recover.”

“Uh ... you can watch me all night...,” Zalika plopped down on the bed. “This medication is awesome ... pain relievers are so good.” She turned her head to look at Dean and Iz’tre, that were talking to each other.

By now, Dean only wore his pilot jumpsuit. His helmet had been stowed away, and Iz’tre stood in a brown robe and shawl. Her gun and armor had been properly put away as per her wishes. Her tail would wag from the edge of the seat. The two were far enough away from Bekra and Zalika to give some privacy, but they still had to be close enough for Bekra to help relay the occasional translation. Dean had a neatly woven cigarette in his hand. The smell of burning weed perforated the area, but the location was well ventilated. He would occasionally take a few drags here and there but did nothing else.

“Now ... this stuff that I smoke is vezin,” Dean commented to his cigarette. “It produces a very ... very mild feeling. I can smoke a little bit and like ... feel comfortable and all. Allows me to be ok. Not as good as hlen’weed, but good for this situation.”

“You mean that you ran out of it,” Zalika told him.

“Yeah...,” Dean nodded to Iz’tre. “She’s right. I need to get more from home. I think that some of the people wanted a little bit of what I had ... like ... they needed to get the edge off and stuff.”

Iz’tre was swinging her legs from the chair. While Iz’tre was shorter than the typical average human, the chair was meant for human height. This caused her clawed feet to barely touch the ground. Much like many of the individuals that weren’t working, she displayed a look of exhaustion. She desired to relax, and Dean could easily see it.

“You want some?” he asked her. He offered his cigarette to her, but she shook her head no.

“Drugs don’t have the same effect on us as the stuff that you use, Dean,” Bekra informed him.

“Oh ... that’s a bummer, man, but it’s ok and all,” Dean commented. “See? Smoking weed carries no ill effects on the human system ... unless you try to smash your aircraft into a building ... or like ... run your shuttle into another shuttle ... but ... you should never have to feel obligated to smoking weed. Because...” he paused for a long while. “We have the right to put stuff into our bodies and ... like ... enjoy those freedoms ... Yeah ... it’s why I grow my own stuff back at home. I believe in happiness and ... being together ... and ... love ... um ... companionship. You just have to go with the flow, Izzy.”

“Just tell her what you want and go fuck her already,” Zalika told Dean. Bekra nudged her shield into her. “What?” She asked Bekra. “I don’t have the right to tell him that? Hey ... I’m an injured woman over here.”

Bekra translated Dean’s words to Iz’tre. She was listening to the translation and nodded to Dean. She pointed at the cigarette and shook her head. Then she pointed at him and then nodded her head with a smile.

“Umm...” Dean continued. “I like you, Izzy. You’re pretty ... ummm ... beautiful ... and nice to me. I think that you’re more than just a pal or a bro. You’re like, ... a super bro. Not like family sisters or brothers but a really good pal. And ... I think I want to make that more permanent. I want to like ... ask you out on a date and take you to the movies ... and ummm...”

Iz’tre had an inquisitive look on her eyes as she analyzed his inflections and his attitude. She was genuinely curious as to what he was trying to say.

“Dean,” Bekra halted his conversation. “Remember, we don’t ask for romantic dates. Just tell her how you feel.”

“Oh ... oh, yeah ... um. I want to do what like the other humans are doing ... I want to be together.” He took his hands and wrapped them together. “Together ... you know?”

“Together...,” she said back.

“Umm...,” Dean scratched the back of his head. He seemed confused in how to go further.

“You like Iz’tre,” she asked and pointed at me.

“Yeah, yeah, but really like. Like... ‘really’ like,” he held his hands in explanation.

“You no mate ... I no mate...,” she looked at Bekra and began to speak a series of words to her in the Itrean language. Bekra said a couple of words back and finally turned to look at Dean.

“She wants to clarify that she has no mate. She wants to make sure that you have no mate.”

“I have no mate,” he answered.

Iz’tre made a quick nod. “Want children ... many children ... want happy. You happy ... together. I no Aksren ... I Iz’tre. T’rintar now.” There were several clicks in her voice.

“Of course,” he stated. “I don’t mind having children with you, Izzy. As long as we are like ... together ... forever.”

Bekra translated the words to Iz’tre. Iz’tre showed the strongest sense of relief to him. Her clawed hand grasped onto her robe. She closed her eyes and had the biggest of smiles.

“Children ... make ... happy,” Iz’tre continued. “Better ... everything. No kill ... hate kill ... hate today ... Iz’tre kill ... no kill.” A tear fell from her reptilian eye. “Love ... not war. Peace ... love ... Aksren...” she waved her hand at everything and spoke in several words in the Itrean language. “Dean, Iz’tre ... together. Live together.”

“I hear you, Izzy,” Dean stated. “I agree with you on like ... everything. I have a good home back on Cebravis. We live together and be together. I um ... go through that little surgery thing and ... we can become parents and stuff.”

Iz’tre pointed her finger at Dean. There was one specific word that she said with due diligence.

“It’s not surgery, Dean,” Bekra corrected him. “It’s a simple injection. Iz’tre said ‘Responsible parent.’ She wants to make sure that you take the role responsibly. She is concerned that you will hurt yourself or the children as a result of your actions.”

Dean held up his hand. “I promise to like ... be a good father ... and um ... be responsible. I will be only smoking the certain types of...”

“Dean...,” Bekra corrected him.

“I swear ... I really swear!” Dean exclaimed in his own way. He put his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’ve just learned to be one with nature, Izzy. Once you’re with me ... I promise with the solemn Dean’s oath that I’ll care for you and like ... love you as ... well any other person would. It was just like earlier today ... but with more oomph in it. Just got to pound it in ... you know? Pound it ... you haven’t seen me with my sister’s kids. They like ... like me and all that. Uncle Dean ... thee Doper Dean ... Pilot Dean...” He put his hand to his heart and felt a sense of joy. “Hero Dean ... Ace Dean ... Father Dean ... Whoa ... I like where that went, you know? Married Dean ... Grandfather Dean...”

“Keep ... talking...,” Iz’tre tried to say. A set of tears began to fall from her eyes.

“Then there would be Gersin Izzy ... Hero Izzy ... ummm ... Mother Izzy ... Grandmother Izzy ... Super Izzy ... umm ... you know?” he held his hands in triumph. “Dean and Izzy! Like ... Happy ending for everyone and stuff!”

“How in the living fuck that you ever managed to become a first-class petty officer?” Zalika asked Dean.

“I don’t know, Big-Z,” Dean replied to her. “I’m just ... nice to people and answer their questions with the greatest sincerity that I can ever give.”

Bekra was about to translate Dean’s early comments to Iz’tre, but she interrupted her. She then asked for clarification with the words. She wasn’t necessarily asking for a translation but a way to ensure that her words would not be mistaken. There were words that Iz’tre was practicing. She spoke it in clarity.

“Dean ... I need a mate...,” she then pointed to him. Her words were sincere, as if her finger carried a lot of weight to it. However, her tears had stopped, and she was firm with her decision.

“Oh, yeah, I can do that...,” Dean tried to say.

“Dean,” Bekra corrected him. “She’s asking you if you want to be her mate. It’s very important that you say yes or no right now. When you do say it, say it in a complete sentence. You are making the oath of mateship or not.”

“Oh ... oh, yeah, like ... I, Dean, need a mate.”

Iz’tre did a quick nod. “Dean, I can be your mate.”

“And I ... promise to be your mate.”

“I will be your mate. Dean, will you be my mate?”

“Yes,” he answered.

She stepped toward him and leaned her head on his lap. “We are mates. Dean, Iz’tre ... together ... super pals.”

“Alright,” Dean extended his hands to her. He went and hugged her tightly. Her small frame felt soft to the touch.

“That’s it,” Bekra told him. “You are mates. Dean, I expect you to honor Itrean traditions and customs. Otherwise ... we wouldn’t be happy. Iz’tre has chosen you to follow and be with. You have chosen to follow and be with her.”

“Iz’tre ... happy...,” she told him. She got up and pressed her crested head to his shoulder. Dean showed sincerity in how he held her. She sat down on his lap and showed the greatest sense of relief.

“Wait ... so this was what I missed when we became mates?” Zalika asked Bekra.

“Yes,” Bekra answered.

“Damn...” Zalika put her hand to her head. “Getting drunk can be a real bitch.”

“Now...,” Bekra explained to Dean and Iz’tre. “It’s important that you know what is going to happen to you two. I will make sure to properly translate this to Iz’tre so that she understands what is going to happen. Aksren clan prisoners are being rounded up by UHN and T’rintar clan soldiers. It’s likely that Iz’tre will be taken into custody to be questioned. You two will be separated for a little while. Likely, the UHN doesn’t have the ability to take a large number of prisoners, so they will be handed over to the T’rintar clan to be processed. Me, Zalika, and everyone that you worked with will be questioned about Iz’tre. I give you my oath that she’ll get a fair and positive comment on her actions today, as would many.”

“You got mine,” Zalika added as she raised her hand. She put her hands to the back of her head.

“Because of the circumstances and the oath of mateship,” Bekra continued. “The T’rintar clan must honor that law. Iz’tre will be handed over to you in a week, depending on how quickly the legal process occurs. You are bonded together, and it would be unfair to remove you two from each other for so long. I will also serve as witness to your oath if it is needed. However, Itrean laws rarely question the word of oath by others, even if it’s a former enemy. I can’t speak for the T’rintar clan, but I know that it’s their desire to see humans and Itreans together in hopes of producing...”

“In other words,” Zalika interrupted and waved her hand in the air. “You’re married, but the honeymoon won’t be for a week. Go use this night to your advantage. Go somewhere far and fuck like rabbits, ok?”

“Oh ... ok!” Dean held a thumbs up with a smile.

“See? That’s how you word it to him,” Zalika gestured to Bekra.

Bekra began to translate everything that she told Dean to Iz’tre. It took about a minute with proper clarification and questioning done by Iz’tre. However, the conversation was cut short. Three officers stepped into the medical tent. One was a bald officer with a rank of commander on his jumpsuit. Nari and Kosai were also with him.

“Oh...,” Dean tapped Iz’tre to get off his lap. She did so as Dean stood up to salute the two officers. A set of marines were escorting the seemingly important trio. Iz’tre looked at Dean and tried to copy him by giving some sort of makeshift salute.

“Ah...,” the bald officer waved his hand to the two to drop their salute. “Is this the pilot and the defector?”

“Yes, Captain Ramírez,” Kosai explained and used his working hand to point to him. “Ehm ... Petty Officer 1^st Class Dean, this is Captain Ramírez, the CO of the entire operation to retake Cipra. Captain, this is Iz’tre. She helped us out in the assault on New Hong Kong.”

“Oh ... awesome, sir,” Dean replied. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“I have had a chance to review a little bit of what you did, Dean,” Ramírez said with a content manner. “Impressive flying. The Aksren clan never stood a chance with your flying skills. Within one day, you’ve made yourself a top ace pilot. And this is Iz’tre,” Ramírez held his hand out to greet her. She nervously extended her hand and shook it. “It was brave of you to have to turn against your own people like that. I know that it might not have been easy.”

Bekra translated the words as Iz’tre understood them. “Thank you, sir,” she tried to reply.

“Officers,” Bekra addressed them. “I’ve informed Iz’tre on what will happen to her.”

“Yes...,” Kosai felt reluctant to say what he was going to say. “I’m afraid that you will have to be brought in for questioning, Iz’tre. You will be taken into custody. Understand that this isn’t a punishment. You will be well treated. I’ve already stated everything that you did to the Fleet Adjunct.”

“I did as well,” Nari added. “Your contribution was pivotal today and saved the lives of the refuges of this planet. We won’t forget that.”

“We vouch for her too,” Zalika raised her hand. “She didn’t hesitate in shooting at her own. She kicked ass today and took names, sir.”

“Yes, but unfortunately, she will still have to be taken in for now,” Ramírez stated. “Right now, any little bit of information will help us greatly in the war with the Aksren clan. Because of this ... I feel that it would be best to keep her under UHN custody and not even have her handed over to the T’rintar clan. However, I will still have to have a few to help translate for her.”

“She will need to be returned to Dean as soon as possible,” Bekra added. “If there are any issues with the T’rintar clan, you can tell them that Dean and Iz’tre have become mates.”

Zalika coughed as there was a slightly awkward silence. Nari gave a brief amount of surprise from her face. Dean gave a thumbs up of approval.

“That might not have been necessary...” Zalika whispered to Bekra.

“Right ... well it will be noted,” Ramírez stated. He held his hand to Iz’tre and gestured her to follow one of the marines to another tent. She showed a little bit of anxiety. Her breathing increased as she had to fight back against the trepidation of being separated from Dean. She turned and quickly hugged Dean.

“Want ... stay ... together,” She said in English.

“I know, Izzy,” Dean leaned down and hugged her. She patted her back. “I promise to be here for you. I’ll help the UHN and like ... make sure to help them get you out early and stuff.” He released her and held his hand up. “Dean’s oath.”

She raised her hand to his as she took a deep breath. “Super pals...,” she told him back. “Iz’tre strong. Together...”

With that, Iz’tre surrendered herself to one of the marines. She walked with him and kept her head held high. She almost walked like a monk. Her tail was the last thing that Dean saw as she walked out of the tent.

“Damn ... sir,” Zalika commented. “Talk about cockblocking to the extreme.”

Ramírez ignored the snide comment made by the Oshunian marine. He turned his attention to Dean and Zalika.

“Now,” he explained. “I have a choice to make on the accounts of your actions today...” he showed a little bit of wiriness and fatigue. “Pilot Dean, you will be awarded the Sol Cross for your actions in flying today against the Aksren Clan, along with a commendation by all three of us. Zalika, you will be awarded the Purple Heart Medallion for your injuries and sacrifice, along with a commendation. Bekra, we can’t technically award you for your actions today. However, we’ve put in commendations for you to the T’rintar clan for your heroics. The UHN is devising ways that they can properly reward those that serve the interests of the UHN and are part of the T’rintar clan at the same time.”

“Thank you,” Bekra replied. “However, any rewards that vested to me, I would like to have passed on to the T’rintar lives that fought down here on Cipra against the Aksren clan. Any monetary value goes to their family and kin.”

“Hey ... that’s a good idea,” Zalika commented. “Same here. All I ask is that we get some good leave time and a break.”

“We all will,” Kosai promised.

“Even now,” Nari added. “The surviving Ciprans will get properly treated and cared for...”

“Any signs of survivors?” Zalika asked. “Not from your group, ma’am, but others?”

Kosai shook his head. “The word is ... disturbing ... we’re still trying to find out where they brought them and what happened to the people that the Aksren clan took. A majority of the POWs are refusing to talk or simply don’t know. It’s possible that the ones that do know will have it extracted by the T’rintar clan.”

Nari seemed to hold her anger in, but Zalika nodded her head. “Give them hell, sir.”

“The last question that I need to bring up to both of you is if you want to have an award ceremony for your medals,” Ramírez asked. “Do you want to have one?”

Zalika shook her head. “No, sir.”

Dean also shook his head as well.

“Alright...,” the bald officer remarked. “I’ll leave you be.”

“Dean, we’ll get in contact with you soon so we can make further arrangements in regards with Iz’tre,” Kosai told him.

“Thank you, sir,” Dean replied.

“Thank you ... Doper Dean,” he smiled at him and proceeded to walk out with Ramírez and Nari.

Dean held his hands up in triumph upon hearing that. The recognition was more than enough.

Outside of the medical tent, Ramírez breathed a big sigh of relief. “That should do it when it comes to the awardees,” he commented as he joined up with the officers.

“Yes, now ... if you excuse me, sir,” Kosai told him. “I have reports to file out and try to get whatever sleep that I can get.”

“I’ll be up all night,” Nari added. “I need to go ahead and make arrangements for the rest of the refuges and the shuttle transports.”

“Just make sure you get some rest,” Ramírez told her.

“I’ll rest when I see the last person brought out of Tazhong canyon safely.” Nari defiantly said. “I owe them that, at least.”

Ramírez nodded as both of the officers had left. There was a single marine guard that he had walked with him. However, there was a person that stopped him before he went far.

“There you are,” a familiar voice walked with him.

“Tara’Talar,” Ramírez replied back. “Nice to be walking on Cipra. Never imagined seeing or breathing the fresh air.”

Tara’Talar walked with a set of Shal’rein guards. They had their heavy armor and large rifles parked to their chests. The shark-like race naturally towered over everyone. Upon her joining him, Ramírez waved his hand to his marine guard, and he was relieved. The marine nodded and walked away. There was something that Tara’Talar was holding in her hand. He didn’t look too closely at it.

“Might as well be with you,” Ramírez commented. “Today was hell. I’m so tired.”

“I know,’ Tara’Talar replied. The T’rintar Aksren woman handed what appeared to be a canteen to him. He recognized it immediately.

“Ah, you got more of that tea for me. Thank you,” he solemnly replied. They walked together as the guards walked in unison and gave the two leaders some space to talk to each other. He started to take sips from it and admired the familiar taste.

“We’ve been interrogating some of the prisoners that we’ve taken,” she explained to him. “Still nothing yet as to where the humans were taken when the world was conquered a year ago.”

“You just haven’t found the right ones yet.”

“Most of the soldiers are just ones taken from various worlds and sent to enforce the area. It’s my belief that a lot of the soldiers were rotated away from this city last year.”

“Will they be given a fair trial?” Ramírez asked.

“I can’t speak for my people on these particular terms. Kosai made agreements that the Aksren armies would be given fairness if they surrendered and lay down their weapons. Your people made an agreement out of desperation to end a battle.”

Ramírez stopped and looked at the broken-down MMACC. Tara’Talar did the same.

“The marine corps took some of the heaviest losses that the UHN had ever seen since the lost of Cipra a year ago,” he told her. “We could have kept bombarding the location till every building was smashed and destroyed. Cipra wasn’t the same as it used to be. I just want to make sure that the Aksren will be treated fairly as promised by our people when they are handed to the T’rintar.”

“I’ll talk to them, but I imagine that many will be sent to live on Itrea to help rebuild and fix it ... under watch, of course.”

“Understand this,” he pointed to her. “We’re grateful for what the T’rintar did to help us out in attacking the Aksren clan, but ... over 60,000 marines are dead. They gave their lives to make sure we could take this world. We’re handing those prisoners to you because we don’t have the facilities for hundreds of thousands. I don’t want to see Earth be turned into a gulag.”

“Gulag?” she asked.

“An ... old word ... Russian language ... harsh prison. My point is that Earth has become a dumping ground for former criminals of your clan.”

“Ah ... then understand, Ramírez. My people ... all Itreans barely know of the word of ‘surrender’ or ‘prisoner.’ Even in the beginning of ten of your years ago, the T’rintar rarely took captives. We either executed those that were captured, or the ones that would be arrested, would commit suicide. Each clan’s goal is the eliminate the other. When we discovered humans, it was Zilik’s Disease that changed that thinking. It was humans that made us change our beliefs. Now ... we capture and hold our enemies. Word spreads that humans ... might not be Itrean. They fight and give up because a few might believe that there is hope that humans hold the cure even if their leaders tell them to fight to the death. They surrender because they hope that you will bring them to ... I don’t have the word ... sal...”

“Salvation,” he told her.

“Yes. Itrea ... Earth ... it is the only thing we can do. Keeping the prisoners and any criminal close to Mars is the only way for them to make things better for all Itreans. It sends a message to our enemies as they try to subvert the truth that we are sparing the ones that give up. It’s possible that many of the families of these prisoners will either say that their kin died in battle or betrayed the Aksren clan by surrendering.”

“If that’s the case, then why did the Aksren fleet retreat so quickly after Cipra surrendered.”

“Because Loreshren is a coward. You were right about our actions. Loreshren was used to how we fight, and you turned it against her.”

Ramírez shook his head. “Hmmm ... for some reason, that doesn’t really answer anything at all. I can’t put my finger on it, but ... some things in this battle didn’t make sense. This city ... there were soldiers and some Aksren civilians, but an entire year to do this? The Aksren population here was never the amount that Cipra had. Every Itrean fights to the death, and yet they have a fight with a beleaguered UHN marine force and some shelling, and they just drop their weapons like nothing happened? There were other things too...” He paused and put his hand to his head. “Ugh ... I’m just tired. Maybe I’m just thinking too much. Maybe your right, or maybe it’s a little bit of everything.”

He began to take sips of the tea. Tara’Talar grabbed his arm and began to guide him around on a walk. It was an odd feeling, but it didn’t feel out of place after being with her for the day.

“Maybe it was you, Ramírez,” she said with a couple of clicks in her voice. “You helped save one of your planets.”

“Ehh ... we all did ... including you. You helped keep my mind straight for today. Thank you.” He took another sip of the canteen as he saw another set of shuttles come flying overhead. Looking up, he could see the thousands of T’rintar vessels that were guarding the planet.

“And, I would promise you that I’m quite fertile,” she said lightly.

Ramírez coughed and choked on the tea the moment that he heard it. It was very close to being a spit take. He had to clear his throat. For a second, one of the Shal’rein guards behind her made a short laugh upon hearing his reaction. Tara’Talar simply made a small smile from her pointed beak and inquisitively looked at him.

“Umm ... what?” he asked her.

“I said that I can promise to bear you many children.”

“Uhh...” He paused in his walk and gave a firm look at her. “Wait ... this is a joke, right?”

“No, it is sincere. When I spoke to William a year ago, I found him to be ... attractive. He fought to defend my ship. While William may be dead, you ultimately proved to me that you would be a viable alternative.”

“Wait ... wait...,” He let go and waved his hand. “I’m trying to understand this. You have a mate and ... I’m married.”

“I know. I’m willing to offer you a chance to become the mate to me and my mate. My mate and I would become you and your wife’s mate. We would all become a mateship together. My mate and I would bear you as many children as you wish.”

“Holy fuck...,” he turned around and let the idea sink in. It was almost too much for him to hear. For a remote second, he imagined the insanity of having a bed with his wife and two alien women altogether. It wasn’t to say that it was a bad idea, but it was one that could inquire too many lewd thoughts in one moment.

“You are against the idea, I’m sorry to have made you...,” Tara’Talar tried to say.

“No, no,” he stopped her. “It isn’t that ... I mean ... fuck ... the idea ... I understand why you would think that way. I’m just ... worried that my wife would be the one to tell you no. I love her, and I want to listen to her wishes. If it was just me, then ... yeah, I would say yes, but it would have to be her to allow it.”

“I admit that I still need to talk to my mate to see what she thinks of it. You are an honorable mate for your wife to think of her wishes. I wish to no longer be an ivon and being with you. That process could come an end. My mate would agree to this. Your genes would play a part in preventing more of our women from being turned into ivon because we would do our part to bear you sons. I would like to talk to your wife and make some proposals that she may find interesting. The T’rintar clan are doing everything that they can to promote mateship. There would be many ... the word ... incentives?”