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Payim quo Desero

“I’m not envious in the least,” Faktil groused as Payim headed through the hangar toward the cruiser.

That’s untrue. The way your tail beats the air betrays you, their silent Toufik friend, Thunder, teasingly signaled with his blond furry hands.

“Verily,” Payim snorted. “A few more forays in the Osivoire vessel and you’ll have it mastered.” He patted Faktil’s shoulder.

“Don’t patronize me. I know you grew up in a pilot seat but it’s wretchedly uncanny how swiftly you learned the Osivoire tech.” Faktil followed him to the hatch.

What he means is go with the goddess,Thunder gestured.

“Thank you.” Payim bowed to his furry friend.

“That goes without saying, but, aye.” Faktil turned serious. “You spot evidence of those scaly bastards on that planet and you get your tail back here.”

“Of course, my friend.” He nodded then boarded the cruiser.

Payim strapped into the pilot seat and brought the cruiser online with a swipe of the controls. A smile tipped his lips as the viewscreen displayed the parting hangar doors and the darkness of space beyond. This was the part he always liked best, the moment leading up to take-off. Something inside him came alive as the ship flickered to life and arose from the hull floor, eager to launch forward like a battlemanx.

His gaze shifted as the screen split, the Osivoire captain appearing alongside the view of the planet.

“Scala, are we clear?” he asked the bony warrior.

“I’m not reading much through the planet’s atmosphere. The sulfur and heavy metal in Gienah’s stratosphere are throwing off our sensors,” Scala reported as Payim exited the starship hangar bay.

“That’s why I’m going in for a look.” Payim double-checked that the cloaking system was operational.

He’d learned to read Scala, despite the Osivoire’s bony exoskeleton, and the male was concerned. That put a smile on his face. Years ago, he never would’ve imagined he’d be part of an off-world mission with a foreign race. He always assumed he’d die in the civil war on his planet. Now, the Cadi were allied with several foreign races like the Osivoire, and he was piloting vessels across the cosmos, while meeting the most amazing people.

“Don’t fear, my bony friend. I’ve traversed some pretty harrowing places. I was one of the pilots who rescued the Toufik from their dying home world,” he reassured Scala, bringing up the image of the planet on another screen.

“I can’t tell if there’s a Miran Sona crash or a Jurou Biljana installation or not,” Scala groused.

“I’m rather sure the intel is good. Did you hear what Nadzia did to that son of ametcor?” Payim leaned closer to the display screen.

“Aye. She threatened to cut off the reptile’s tail and cauterize the stump,” Scala chuckled. “I had no clue that was their weakness.”

“Human females.” He shook his head in amusement.

“I know. They are an intriguing mix of delicate and tough. I am truly glad Nadzia turned out to be Aculus’ weakness.” Scala smiled, looking somewhat wistful.

Payim tilted his head as he considered the male. The male never struck him as the sentimental type. “You honestly never considered finding your own conclave?”

“Ihaveconsidered it, that’s why I’m not interested. You witnessed how Osivoire males are treated little better than breeding stock to service their conclave of females.” Scala adamantly shook his head. “What about you? You’re out gallivanting among the stars, fighting off the scourge of the universe and rescuing races across the cosmos instead of home bonding with a female,” Scala countered.

Payim stared at his friend on the display, but saw a very different viewscreen at a very different time.

He crept into the cruiser control room, knowing full well he shouldn’t be there. The viewscreen was huge and so was the warrior sitting at the console, then again, he was small for his age, smaller than the other males at the Vidya Cadi youth asylum.

“You lost, little warrior?” Agister asked without turning in his seat.

Escaping was more like it. Payim felt his swollen eye. The giant warrior turned when he didn’t reply.

“Ah. I see. Evading the other little warriors.” Agister sized him up, then adjusted the viewscreen to show the mob of bullies hunting for him on the tarmac. “Should we teach them a lesson?” A target suddenly appeared on the screen, the five males at the center of the site.

Payim’s eyes widened. As much as he hated being tormented by the bullies, he shook his head.

“Good male.” The giant warrior patted the nearby seat. “I’m Agister de Folur. What’s yours?”