Page 63 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

“Okay, let’s take a look,” I said to Goroz. “Do you know exactly when they arrived?” I would likely be getting this information from Henderson at some point, but given the amount of work he had to do at the moment, the base-wide updates could face significant delays.

Goroz tapped at his comm, and I noted that the Ranzors’ design for the handy devices was different from ours, allowing them to use their large claws to navigate, rather than our relatively delicate fingers. “Three hours ago,” he reported. “They have already engaged with Nwandu forces.” He moved around to the rear of the building, where it was more sheltered and the rest of the camp wouldn’t be able to view the report. Then he set it to play, his comm projecting it onto the wall of the building.

The video began inside one of the Alliance cruisers, a stern-faced Solof woman giving a point-form update on their position as they prepared to engage Nwandu fighters. Then a clip from the ship’s external sensors played, displaying intense fighting between Nwandu ships, Ranzor wingers, Culrad destroyers and a handful of ships from a few other species. At first glance, it looked like a total blood bath, but after a minute or two, I began to pick out patterns in the fighting. And while destroying the Nwandu ships wasn’t always possible, I realised that the combined forces were doing a solid job of preventing them from entering the atmosphere and landing on the planet. At the very least, that would slow down their attempts to enslave the Halagals, buying time to evacuate more civilians and allow more backup to arrive.

After a few minutes, the video switched to a scene down on the planet’s surface. Given that this was a Ranzor report, I wasn’t surprised to see the video showing a line of Ranzor warriors moving slowly along a street. The buildings around them had either been burned or had significant structural damage, and one was still on fire. Three large creatures burst out of one of the buildings, and it took me a moment to identity them. I was fairly sure they were Nargars – a species the Alliance rarely had any dealings with, who had originated on a planet about ten thousand light years away. They were massive creatures, even by Ranzor standards; one Nargar was about the size of an Earth elephant, though they were far more agile, and had far better natural weapons – huge claws on their forelimbs and horns on their heads.

But as we watched, the team of Ranzors split in half, coming at the creatures from two sides. One warrior leapt onto the Nargar’s back, while another attacked from below, using the razor sharp spines on his tail to slice a gaping line into the Nargar’s throat. Another two Ranzors were distracting one of the other Nargars, while a third snuck up behind him, then hobbled both his back legs. The pair at the front then used their claws to blind the creature, which then made it far easier to finish it off.

I wasn’t particularly enthused about watching the violence, but at the same time, I didn’t find it terribly disturbing. Given the absence of the Nwandu’s mind control bands on the Nargars, they were apparently there willingly, perhaps having hired themselves out as mercenaries. And I found it difficult to feel any particular sympathy for people who were helping to fight a war designed to enslave an entire planet.

But aside from that, I was awed by the Ranzors’ nimble grace in the battle. They were astonishingly light on their feet, moving fast, in coordinated rushes that spoke of long and disciplined training. I was sure that Goroz wasn’t showing us this toboast about his people’s prowess – he’d proven himself far too cooperative for that – but nonetheless, the silent lesson coming out of the video wasdo not fuck with the Ranzors. Given not only their physical strength, but their advanced technology, the Alliance wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

“Have there been many casualties amongst your people?” I asked Goroz. I wasn’t sure if Ranzors were receptive to sympathy, or whether they would view military casualties with a sense of pride, so I tried to keep my tone fairly neutral.

But to my surprise, Goroz gave a rumble of amusement. He shut off his comm before answering. “No. They have damaged a handful of our ships, but we build good ships. They do not explode, like Nwandu ships do. They just have to leave the battle for a while to be repaired. And on the ground? Have you ever met a Nwandu? They are much like humans in height and muscle mass. They are flimsy things. They do not bother us. The difficulty is trying to fight the enslaved Halagals. We could wipe them out easily, but our soldiers are trying to round them up so that the mind control devices can be removed. It is much more difficult to capture them without doing them too much damage. There are some we have had to kill, and our military leaders are not happy about that.”

From the expression on Ru’s face, she was entirely unhappy about Goroz’s report. “Humans are flimsy?” she said, but I quickly cut her off. Aside from their colouring, Solofs were physically quite similar to humans, so the insult could just as easily have been aimed at her own species.

“Compared to a Ranzor, that’s a fair assessment,” I said, giving her a subtle shake of my head. I hadn’t had a chance to give her and Gasrin a proper briefing about what to expect from the Ranzors’ mannerisms, but it was in all of our best interests to avoid starting an argument now. Ru didn’t look happy about my silent reprimand, but she obediently closed her mouth.

“But I’m impressed that the Ranzors are trying to free the Halagals, rather than killing them. It must make the whole job a lot harder.”

Goroz’s tone had been rather flippant when he’d described trying to capture the enslaved people, and I didn’t quite know what to make of the declaration that they weren’t happy about the ones they’d had to kill. According to their reputation, Ranzors were far too willing to leapt into a fight – which was one of the reasons the Alliance had called for their help in the first place. But, as I’d slowly been learning over the last few days, they apparently had a complex set of morals of their own, far beyond a simple desire to stab their claws into things.

“We are not used to this,” Goroz admitted, looking me over slowly. “We are far more accustomed to just killing things. But there are many things about the Alliance that we are not used to. Our experiences with you have been… interesting.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but thankfully, Goroz moved on before I had to think of anything. “Have you finished explaining my request to your shipmates? Are they ready to talk to me about Ixralia?”

I’d already noticed Ru’s expression of mild offence, and Gasrin’s obvious apprehension. “Give me a couple more minutes,” I told Goroz. “There’s just a few more things I need to tell them.”

◊◊◊

An hour later, Dax sidled up to me as I was handing out the last of the latest food delivery. Nichols was beside me, checking off the list of refugees as we went. I tensed as Dax arrived, knowing exactly what he was about to say.

“Goroz has finished with Ru and Gasrin,” he murmured into my ear. “He and the other Ranzors would like to speak to you.”

I’d told Goroz, soon after he’d made the initial request, that I wasn’t willing to be a part of the in-person discussions – a fact I’d also informed Ru and Gasrin about, before they’d agreed to visit the camp. But I’d offered to provide a written response to any particular questions he had, and Goroz had seemed to find the compromise acceptable. The current plan was that he was going to compile a list of questions after speaking to Ru and Gasrin, and then I’d have a week or so to put my answers together.

I was fully prepared to stand my ground now, if he was going to try and push for a face to face talk about it, but nonetheless, I was apprehensive as I followed Dax across the camp back to the office. I wasn’t surprised to find Goroz waiting outside the office for me. But what did surprise me was to see the rest of the Ranzors lined up behind him. Had something gone wrong? What could be important enough that all seven of them needed to talk to me?

“What’s this about?” I murmured to Dax, but he shook his head.

“I don’t know, sir. But I have no reason to think they mean you harm.” Sure enough, Ru and Gasrin were waiting just outside the door to the office, looking perplexed, but not unduly alarmed.

Dax and I came to a stop in front of Goroz. “Dax says you wanted to speak to me?” I prompted him.

On the way over here, I’d braced myself for all manner of comments, questions or insults – intentional or otherwise. But what Goroz did next was nothing like what I’d expected. He lowered himself to one knee in front of me, head bowed, and behind him, the rest of his team did the same. “Nussar,” he growled softly, and the fact that my translator didn’t translate the word indicated that it was some kind of title. Some cultural expressions had equivalents in other languages, while othersdidn’t, and it was always a bit hit and miss as to what response our translators would come up with.

I glanced at Dax, as if he could explain this bizarre display, but he looked as baffled as I was. “I don’t understand the gesture you’re making,” I said to Goroz, catching myself before I could apologise for my own ignorance. For all our recent progress, apologies of that sort still seemed to confuse them. “What does it mean?”

Goroz gave one more bow of his head, then the whole team rose to their feet. “We have conveyed upon you the title of Nussar,” he explained, then he made that odd, clicking noise that I now knew was a sound of approval. “You are a warrior of the finest quality. I have underestimated both you, and the whole of your Alliance. You deserve the respect of the entire Ranzor species.”

Excuse me? I scrambled for a response to that. However blunt the Ranzors were accustomed to being, I didn’t think ‘What the fuck?’ would be appropriate. “Thank you,” I said eventually, recognising the reverence in the gesture, even if the cause of it eluded me. “What did I do to earn that title?”

Goroz glanced over at Ru and Gasrin. “These two soldiers,” he said, “have both told us the story of how you all got trapped on Ixralia. It is much the same as the way our own ship got trapped. They told us of the beasts you faced and the way the land itself reached out to kill you. And they told us of how they escaped.” Goroz made that clicking sound again, longer and louder this time. “They told me that the only reason they were able to get out was becauseyoupulled them to safety.Youfreed them from their pods. You broke a hole in the containment dome, and you led them back to your ship.” A shudder ran through him. “You not only fought through the demons for your own life, but you saved three of your crew as well. Even our own fighters – some of the fiercest in the galaxy! – were only able to save themselves.They saw no way to free their trapped comrades. You, Nussar, have done the impossible. And we honour you for it.”

His words sank in… and I was surprised and embarrassed to feel tears pricking at my eyes. I blinked rapidly, steadfastly avoiding looking at Ru or Gasrin. I’d known, of course, that they were grateful to me for pulling them out of there, but if this was Goroz’s reaction to their stories, they’d clearly been singing my praises more fervently than I’d realised.