Page 55 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

Goroz narrowed his eyes and peered down his elongated snout at me. “Do all dimari speak for their masters so arrogantly?”

“No,” I said, steadying my feet on the ground as my heart rate sped up. “But this one does.” Whenever I had stepped in front of my master to divert danger before, he had been grateful for it. I had no reason to believe that this time would be any different.

Goroz made an odd, clicking sound in the back of his throat. My translator picked up the noise, and in a dull electronic voice, it reported to me, “Sound of general approval.”

I forced my expression to remain neutral. If I could generously translate the sound through different cultures and modes of communication, Goroz had justsmiledat me.

“You are a brave little creature,” he said, tilting his head. “I can see why your master likes you. I think you are a good fit for his own bravery. But I would still like you to ask your comrades if they would be willing to speak to me,” he said, returning his attention to my master. “If they say no, I will respect that. But if we can understand more about the creatures we fought, we may be better prepared, if any of them succeed in crossing the wormhole.”

I glanced sideways at my master. He seemed to be at a loss for words. I suspected that he was dreading the idea of having to tell his own story from Ixralia to Goroz and his people. But on the other hand, having a willing and powerful fighting force ready to meet any intruders through the wormhole was certainly a huge benefit to us – and to the rest of the local sector.

“We’ll discuss it with our commanding officer,” I told Goroz, ignoring the fact that Henderson was my master’s commanding officer, but not mine. For the sake of this discussion, that detail was irrelevant. “Captain Rhodes does not have the authority to make such decisions on his own. But we’ll consider your request seriously.”

“Good,” Goroz said. “Now you can tell us what other work needs to be done here to help these refugees.” He cast a look around the park. “This camp is a mess. These people need food. And clothing. And there are two young men over there trying to steal each other’s tent poles.” He flexed his large hands, thick claws tipping each finger. “How would you like us to help?”

◊◊◊

It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and I watched with private amusement as a tentative line of protestors loitered just past the entrance to the park. The group had been a lot larger about half an hour ago. They’d come marching boldly into the park, waving banners and shouting slogans about public property being taken over and a lack of community consultation with regards to the impromptu refugee camp.

Once my master had explained to Goroz what the protest was about, he had beendeeplyunimpressed. “They object to the Alliance helping people who have lost their homes to war?”

“Yes,” my master had confirmed. “They’re not happy about not being able to use the park for their children to play in.”

“These people are stupid,” Goroz announced. “Would you like me to scare them away? I might not be able to fight the Nwandu, but I can still protect refugees from small, angry hecklers shouting nonsense.”

And so Goroz and three of his teammates had formed a security detail of sorts, physically blocking the protestors from coming any further. Cowed by four very large, very angry-looking Ranzors, the group had quickly retreated back out the entrance to the park. There, they’d bravely made a stand, but with waning enthusiasm. Goroz had promised not to physically harm anyone – these were not warriors, my master had insisted, but civilians. They were annoying, but not dangerous. And so far, Goroz and his team had kept their word, doing plenty to intimidate the protestors, but nothing at all to harm them. I was curious as to what Colonel Henderson was going to make of this in the end-of-day report. Or what the media would do, when they inevitably got wind of the situation.

In response to the Ranzors’ presence, the group had quickly shrunk, three quarters of the protestors falling silent and slinking off home, where they would no doubt continue to complain amongst themselves, while the remainder continued to make a loud but insignificant nuisance of themselves.

Turning back to my own task, I slid the last bolt into the wall of the temporary camp kitchen that we were setting up, with Borl and Gatik, two of the Ranzors, holding up the wall while I secured it. Across the other side of the park, Nichols and Len were supervising the water connection to the shower block that had been brought in, and Vol, the last of the Ranzors, along with Privates Denny and Soll, were setting up twelve new tents that had arrived on a truck about an hour ago. That would provide more space for some of the single Halagals to spread out, after having been squished into the available accommodation last night.

Once the kitchen was complete, Borl and Gatik headed off to do another sweep of the camp. Their presence was proving incredibly effective at getting the Halagals to behave, and my master had gone to pains to assure the refugees that any genuine requests for food, medical care or basic necessities would be met with calm and reasonable responses. But at the same time, troublemakers would not be tolerated, and theRanzors seemed more than happy to be acting as security guards. Despite our conversation this morning about the apparent misunderstandings about the Ranzors’ natural level of aggression, it was becoming clear that they were far more willing to engage in social conflict than most Alliance species were.

I glanced around, trying to figure out where my master had disappeared to. He’d been overseeing most of the efforts throughout the day, quick to jump on his comm to organise more food, or to chase up the second doctor, who had ended up being half an hour late. I wasn’t able to see him anywhere around the park, so I headed over to the office. If he was inside, he would either be wrangling more supplies, or having a minor meltdown, and I wanted to check which it was.

I stepped into the small space and instantly froze in a panic, seeing my master sitting at his desk with tears streaming down his face. What the hell had happened in the half an hour I’d left him alone for him to be in this state?

But there was also a holographic projection sitting above his comm, and I instantly recognised the face of Lieutenant Ru Dolve, the Solof woman who had been on the AEV Defender with my master the day I’d met him. I caught my master’s eye and made a ‘going away’ motion, my eyebrows raised, but he shook his head and waved me into the room. I closed the door quietly and stood just in front of it, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

“Thank you,” my master said to Ru, somehow managing to keep his voice steady, despite the tears. “It’ll be good to see you.”

“What about the others?” Ru asked. “Are they coming?”

“Gasrin is. He still lives in the north of Hon, so it won’t be far for him to come. Matchi said no. The distance is a perfectly good excuse, but I get the impression it would just be too much for him.”

“That’s fair,” Ru said. “It’s still a lot to deal with.” She hesitated. “How’s Dax?” she asked next, seeming apprehensive.

I felt a flush of warmth at her question, frankly surprised that she even remembered me, never mind that she was concerned about me. I wasn’t really a part of their group, and I’d only spent a couple of hours with her, spread out over the few weeks they’d all been recovering in the Delaville Space Station, before we’d all been shipped back to Rendol 4 and gone our separate ways.

A small smile broke onto my master’s face. “He’s good. You’ll see him when you get here. It hasn’t all been smooth sailing, but we’re getting through.”

Even on the holographic projector, I could see the relief in Ru’s posture. “Thank the gods. Well, I’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait,” my master said, with a wobbly smile. Then he cut off the connection and the room went quiet.

“That’s good news,” I said, having picked up enough of the conversation to follow what was going on. “Two of your crew are coming.”

“I don’t know if it’s because they want to talk to the Ranzors, or just to see me. And each other, of course. Making sure nothing can come through the wormhole is probably a good motivation…”