STAR SEEKER: 

PRAXIS PARADIGM

(Originally from Book 7)

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          Praxis Paradigm was originally slated to be Adventure 7 which later came to be Children of Charon. The main idea was that it was a new planet set aside specifically for Osmani-Human settlement. The planet is spinward of Tern and far enough out of the way to be out of reach of Osmani ships and the coming Osmani Civil War. A major theme was integrating the lower tech class osmani with high tech humans. In the first generation, the Osmani would be Artisans and laborers until they could be technologically uplifted. Careful planning had to be made to make sure that  didn't devolve into a permanent underclass. The first chapter was part of the Mozie sub-plot and it survived intact in Book 7.

          I decided the series was moving to slow and took a different direction. I really, really like the three acts in Children and had been holding those ideas in reserve: rescuing war orphans, injured saurians (from the aslan) and space missionaries from martyrdom was fun to write about. Probably my favorite book in the series from that perspective. Enjoy. 

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STAR SEEKER:

PRAXIS PARADIGM

 

CHAPTER TWO : PRAXIS BOUND

 

 

            It was very crowded in the conference room. Every seat was taken and some crew stood along each wall. Captain Lane addressed his command staff at their weekly meeting.

            “I want to go over things one more time before we make planet fall,” “If you will look at the maps on your PADD labeled Refin Island. That is what we are calling our new home for the moment. On that map you will see the projected location of the three settlements.”

            Their PADDs showed an island that reminded most of the crew of a peanut tilted 30 degrees east. The “waist” was only 125 miles wide and the left “hip” was about twice the size of the right. It would provide a good shelter for a harbor. Captain Lane continued.

            “I selected this location for the colony because as an island it will limit the variables, make it easier hopefully for us to gain a toe hold on the planet.”

            “The southern colony on the west coast will be our fishing colony. Hope the colonists like seafood: it will be our only fresh food for a while. The inland north and east of there has great agricultural potential; great grass land for grazing and fertile land for crops. The third colony on the east coast is the one that most of us will call home. That is where our starport will eventually be built as well as our homes, training grounds and administrative headquarters for Ursus Major.” He looked up from his PADD and gauged his audience.

            “As soon as we can get things under way on the ground maybe two or three weeks - we will be rejoining our ships and begin our primary mission: locating the enemy before he finds us.

            ”We don’t have much evidence to go on so far. Based on the wreckage of the Satyr ships at Terminus, we know they use ion warp drives. That works in our favor. They are weaker than our fusion reactors so our ships are faster and stronger. Also, their ion drives leave a wake. Hard to find, but once we do we can track Satyrs back to where they came from.

            “I’ll anticipate a question. As far as the Navy goes, there are no ships to spare for escort or picket duty at this time.” There was some negative reaction from the staff. Body language and posture made it obvious they didn’t like this situation. Scout ships were tough, but they were small and no substitute for a Naval ship of war.

            “On average, there is one frigate and two destroyer escorts to each planet along the frontier.” Captain Lane continued. “That’s thin at best. There are a few detached ships that are randomly making patrols of the higher risk areas, but no fighting ship larger than 15,000 tons anywhere on the frontier.”

            “I don’t have to tell you the situation is grim. If you believe in prayer, this is the time we need it most both as a nation and as a crew. It’s great to have a home, but you all realize that a planet is vulnerable and we will have to leave its protection to others while we are gone.” The Captain paused for a moment to let that sink in. He tried to lighten the mood.

            “Well, boys and girls, things could be worse. You could be in the Navy. You all have your downloads forwarded to you by Mrs. Moody.” There were a couple of chuckles among the group. Captain Lane smiled. “Yes, I know. It is hard to get used to calling her that. But Lockman or Moody, Nasrina is still one of the finest communications officers I ever had. I’m sad to say she will be staying behind on Praxis.

            “There is more,” the Captain continued. “There will be some crew changes as well.” The Captain shifted his attention to his PADD. “There is a shortage of our Osmani brethren who are trained in modern weapons and zero g combat. Our ursoid crew compliment will be reduced to twelve on each Ambassador. We will have one extra on this ship, Arnog Brachensclaw. His Excellency has decided to continue on with us as our Chaplin.”

            That seemed to please the staff. Arnog was well liked by his shipmates; he was a faithful and true friend. Many of those who sat around that conference table owed their lives to him. But he was more than that. If Captain Lane was the brain of Ursus Major Corporation, Arnog was its furry heart and soul.            

            “Does anyone have any questions?” Captain Lane asked.

            Arnog was the first to raise his hand. “Excellency, I have a question. What protection will Praxis have while we are gone?”

            “Good question. The answer is ‘the best we can provide.’ Three of the troop transports will remain on station here. Excluding the meson spinal mount found on a Navy ship, their combined power is equal to or better than a frigate. It is true that they lack fighter screens, but we will have to make do.” The Captain could tell by the expression on their faces that they were concerned. He was not happy with the situation either.

            “The good news is this situation is temporary. We do expect a frigate as soon as one is available from the space dock at Ander and maybe a couple of smaller escort vessels. We just have to wait our turn. Not optimal I know, but the best we can do with the rest of our ships spread across the Osmani Empire and the Confederate Fleet spread out across the frontier. Be Thankful we have the guns of the transports or we would be defending our homes with Type F Scouts.” The mental image of that extracted a grim chuckle from the audience – except from the crews of the Type Fs.

            “Thank you, Excellency.” Arnog was always sure to address the Captain according to his social standing, even if few people called him Baron in a working situation. “And I will take you up on your suggestion. I will be holding a prayer vigil later on the cargo deck if anyone feels the need to join me.” That got a few more laughs. Scouts, even former Scouts, did tend to have a dark sense of humor.

            “Anyone else?” The Captain waited for a dozen seconds. There was no response. “Good. My staff: I need the following officers and crew to report to the hanger bay in 10 minutes.”

            “Edwards and Ling you are on Athos to supervise unloading at the star port. “Claiborne and Boldwyn take Porthos and supervise at harbor settlement. Chiefs Harvin and King take Aramis to the south settlement to supervise there. Lieutenant Commander Corona, you have the con.”  Each acknowledged the receipt of their orders.

            “Everyone else, you know the routine. I want reports from all stations by the end of the shift. If you’ve got a problem that you can’t handle yourself, tell someone before we all have to bail. Other Captain’s, meet with your team leader ASAP and do the same. Dismissed.”

            Captain Lane saluted. The staff stood and returned the salute before heading off to fulfill their orders.

  

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            “I wonder how the bears are doing.” Jason Ling asked. He and Wesley stood on the shore near where the new settlement would be built for the star port. It was a little chilly and they both stood with their arms crossed and their hands under their arms. Together, they were watching two of the shuttles come in from the Barcelona.

            “The ones we brought with us or the ones we left behind?’ he countered absently. The shuttles had landed on the water and were just making their way past the barrier islands toward the shore. Wesley intently watched their progress as they came closer, trying to anticipate their course in his mind.

            “The ones we left behind,” Jason answered. After a thoughtful pause, “I think we better move up the beach.”           

            “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Wesley agreed. “Looks like one of the shuttles is headed right for us, so let’s mosey.”

            “I’m moseying, Boss.” Jason replied. They both walked leisurely away from the shore toward the tree line. The shuttle would beach itself close to where they had been standing.

            “The next few weeks are going to be real interesting,” Wesley continued. “No prefab arcologies for our colony. Just a slab with walls made of Styrofoam sandwiched between aluminum alloy. Just glad my skill sets don’t include carpentry.”

            “And how long do these things stand up?” Jason asked derisively. “They remind me of those little white take out boxes for Chinese food.”

            “’Bout a century or so.” Wesley answered. “They’ll be here well after the colony has roads and better buildings. They’re making these buildings bear height so that new colonists from the Empire can use them as temporary housing later down the line.”

            “They got a great location for it: great view and on warm days there is the beach,” Jason added.

            “I can’t really see a bunch of bears in their original coats laying out on the beach…”

            “Well, there is surfing…” Jason suggested. Wesley answered him with a look instead of words and just shook his head. He thought about giving him a neck slap salute, but that would have required unfolding his arms.

            “I miss the bears too,” Wesley said changing the subject. “I’m sure the Dukes are doing what Duke’s do, but I do miss the twins Talas and Oland. They were closer to our age and a lot more fun. But I am glad that we’ve still got Arnog, Tigrin and Cali with us.”

            “Cali is still good for some grins. She’s weird though. I thought human girls were hard to figure out. Sometimes I think she is flirting with me.” Jason said. Wesley laughed out loud.

            “You are a funny guy.” Wesley replied with a raised eyebrow. “So you’re such a player that girls from other species are ‘crushin’’ on you now?” Jason just rolled his eyes and stared up at the sky, pretending he hadn’t heard Wesley. Wesley smiled.

            “It’s just her way.” Wesley explained. “In her society good manners and politeness are like tools of the trade – like a spanner when you are tightening bolts. Courtesy is a key to advancing yourself or an idea or a cause. Besides that, she is completely in love with Tigrin.” Wesley paused for a moment and looked at his bunkie with a thoroughly evil grin.

            “Hey.” Wesley bobbed his eyebrows up and down a couple of times. “Would you like me to tell Tigrin about your crush on his girlfriend?”

            “Not even if I was serious about it,” Jason shook his head. “That dude is at least two feet taller than I am and has me by 400 pounds.”

            “Yeah, and that’s not even including the claws and fangs. I’d rather be shot by an ursoid than lose a hand-to-hand fight with one.” Wesley said. Jason nodded his head in agreement.

            “Hey Wes,” Jason replied. “That reminds me of an old joke: “Where does a 600 pound Osmani sleep?”

            Wesley answered: “Anywhere he wants to!”  They both laughed and headed back down the beach toward the shuttles.

           

 

            The central colony had began to take shape quickly. Ursoid construction crews lead by human supervisors had much of the town already laid out. Slab builders chugged merrily away building foundations; temporary fences had been laid out along property lines. Each house faced a street and had ample space for a garden in its back yard. The first of the homes were completed. Osmani workers labored to cover the exterior of each with wattle and daub, giving the homes the look of a typical Osmani home found anywhere in the Empire. When the colonists arrived several weeks from now, they would be pleased with their new dwellings: familiar, yet larger and cleaner than any of them had known on their home worlds.

            Tigrin and Cali walked hand in hand among the stacks of building materials, watching the town grow. “I wish the boys were here with us.” Cali said. “Especially Talas. He would love to be part of designing and building a village.” To anyone who was watching, it was obvious that the two of them were very much in love. It was so obvious that it didn’t require knowledge of Osmani courting practices to figure it out.

            “Are you sure this is what you want, my Heart?” Tigrin asked. “I know that you wanted to explore the stars together, but it’s become very dangerous. The humans are at war now. Baron Lane has told me that the farther we go away from Praxis, the greater our chances of battle.”

            “I have found my Hero. I would go wherever he does, share in what ever his destiny,” Cali said looking up into his eyes. “Our fates are intertwined. I would rather suffer hardship with you than remain safe at home.”

            Tigrin smiled. He looked deep into her brown velvet eyes. “That’s what Arnog told me you would say. Do not be angry with me, my Heart, but I went to your brother and asked if he would help convince you to stay. He said he was not that brave and not that wise. And even if he were, said he was sure to fail. But he also assured me that the Baron would require you take additional training so you might serve the ship as well. There are no passengers in a war zone.”

            Cali giggled, please with herself. “Even though Arnog is only my half-brother, he knows me well. I will accept whatever conditions the Baron requires.”

            Tigrin sighed deeply even though the smile never left his face. “Then I will go meet with the Baron and ask him if he will do us the honor of allowing us to accompany him further on his voyage. I will be back soon.”

            Tigrin looked to his right and his left. When he saw that no one was looking, he quickly touched his nose to Cali’s, then just as quickly turned and left. Cali smiled, warmed by his brief display of affection. She watched her hero as he walked away into the distance. 

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STAR SEEKER:

PRAXIS PARADIGM

 

CHAPTER TWO : LANDING CELEBRATION

 

 

            “Creator!” Arnog prayed with one hand lifted to the sky. “We thank you and praise your Name. You have brought us safely across the expanse between the stars to this land of plenty. It is fitting that we should remember you at this moment, this moment in which we first breathe the air of this new world; the moment when we first set foot on its fertile ground. The moment when we first declare ourselves free ursoids, free aslan and free men.”

            There was a scattering of amens and other words of agreement from the hundreds of humans, aslan and ursoids in attendance at the landing ceremony. Arnog continued with his prayer in a loud voice.

            “Our future is uncertain and we can do no better than to ask your guidance, protection and wisdom as we begin this NRW experiment in races living together, this experiment in responsibility, this experiment in liberty.” Arnog declared: “So say we all!”

            “So say we all!” the crowd responded.

            “So say we all!” Arnog echoed.

            “So say we all!” the crowd shouted in return, exploding into spontaneous applause and cheers. Their enthusiasm was undeniable, emotions were running high. Each ursoid, aslan and human stepped forward one at a time to sign the colony charter. The charter was short, but would lay the foundation for this new experiment in government.

            By signing it each sophont agreed to four things. First, that they would be bound by the laws of the new government. Second, that the new government would be elected by the people. Third, they agreed on a set of representatives, both ursoid, aslan and human, that would decide the shape of the government. Fourth, those decision would later be ratified by a majority of the colonists before they would be put in place.

            Wesley and Todd as Arnog’s assistants watched from the temporary podium in the town square. The audience was such a motley looking crew: Human Scouts and technicians, Osmani farmers and tradesmen, aslan merchants and warriors. The ursoids were represented by all their races: blacks, browns, and whites. There were even a few of the Mallians, the only ursoid species shorter than a human, as well. The Mallians were gypsies; the clowns and entertainers of the Osmani race. Over all, the gathering had the look and feel of an early fall morning at a country faire.

            The work crews had only a two week head start on the new village before the colonists arrived. Startown as it was now called, was far from complete. It did, however, show promise; the promise of a better future. Many of the new settlers had been starved out of drought ridden lands or forced from lands where they had been oppressed. They knew things would be tough for a while, but they knew things would get better. They had hope for the first time in years of a better tomorrow. They would have to wait for their new homes. For at least a few weeks most of them would still be living in the cargo bays of the three transport ships.

            Through the trees, the Midshipmen could see the transports Theris, Donnis and Chase beached on the shore. Each ship had brought nearly 400 settlers with their goods and their livestock. Even if their homes were not ready yet, they were thankful for one thing. They could at least they could now put their livestock to pasture. It would certainly help the smell in the hold.

            Aside from taming a new world, the challenge for the pioneers would be the blending of customs and technologies. The ursoids were used to a medieval feudal way of life. The humans were primarily current and former military coming from the representational democracy of the Confederacy. Conflict was bound to happen.

            There were other concerns that plagued the colony’s leaders before the first colonist even arrived. Both Captain Lane and Arnog were concerned that the ursoids might loose their identity in the face of the new circumstances. It had proven true in the light of history that when two different technologies met, the lesser one disappeared. If the colony was successful, Wesley knew this was a moment  that would be celebrated for centuries to come. The challenges were formidable, of that there could be no doubt. But Wesley knew that if there were enough ursoids like Arnog and enough humans like  the Ambassadors, they would make it.

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STAR SEEKER: 

TERMINUS TRIALS

(Originally beginning of Book 10).

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          Terminus Trials was originally slated to be Adventure 10, but things happened to delay the journey and the Seekers haven't yet made it to their ultimate goal. Instead, the book has been replaced with Deadman's Drift. The beginning of this story arc was suggested to me by one of my readers (and good friend) to introduce a foil to Arnog. Someone not evil like "Half-Claw," but more like someone fallen from grace. I really like these characters. There is a distinct possibility that Miss Summit Ferris, Twitch and the grumpy Ursoid will be back. Maybe by Adventure 13? The story is set in Prima, one of the ruined colonies of Terminus after the Mozie bombardment.

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STAR SEEKER:

TERMINUS TRIALS

 

CHAPTER TWO : TERMINUS

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            Summit pressed herself against the wall as tightly as she could. She had caught a glimpse of an enemy patrol below through the glassless window. She was pretty sure she hadn’t been seen. From previous experience she knew the enemy almost never looked up. It was an odd thing she often exploited. From the 28th floor of the Archology, she watched their progress. She sighed in relief. They were moving off.

            “They’re gone now,” she said quietly to her companion Twitch. Still she watched them retreat. “You can come out now.”

            A bipedal Saurian of less than human height stepped out of the shadows. Twitch was an Elon, a race known for its skill in mechanical and electrical repairs. Less than half the mass of a human, they are able to get into tight places that humans can’t. They were considered valuable additions to any starship crew. 

            “Miss ’Ummit?” Twitch asked her quietly. His sibilant accent gave away his Saurian origins. “Whats neckst?”

            She turned toward her friend and smiled. “Unless you want to try and take on a Satyr patrol with my crossbow and your needler, I think we should wait for a bit.”

            “I hates waitings,” he sat down dejectedly, his long tail tapping the floor with impatience. Summit knew that to be true enough. They found it difficult to stay still. The Elon were bird-like in their movements which is why she called her friend “Twitch.” His Saurian name sounded too much like a rude word combination in Galanglic. Summit returned to looking out the window.

            “So,” she asked to pass the time, “what do we have in the hunting bag?” Twitch had turned that over in his mind several times so he did not have to open the bag to count.

            “Sichs Arcs ‘quirrels, thas all,” he replied trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. They were called arc squirrels because they had an annoying habit of barking at one another late at night. Once, Terminus had been full of them – several in any good sized tree. Now they were hard to come by – and there was not a whole lot of meat on these. Foraging had become hard for both animals, humans and saurians alike on Terminus.

            Four months ago, Terminus had once been lush and green. All of that had changed with the Satyr bombardment. Now, noon looked like dusk and it was difficult to breathe without a filter mask above the surface. The water supplies had been damaged, too. So much dust was in the air that formerly pristine streams were slow flowing mud slides. The only drinkable water was found underground.

            Now the food stored in the bunkers was running low. Summit and Twitch had formed one of several foraging parties that had gone out in search of supplies today. Her idea had been to follow the underground tunnels as far as she could toward the Archology and then search for stores there. She had found what she was looking for – and something she hadn’t been looking for. There were truckloads of food in the Archology’s basement all right, but there was also a Satyr patrol. She instinctively headed for the safety of high ground inside the Archology pillar knowing the Satyr would not likely follow.

            The presence of the patrol, however, was a mystery. Once a Satyr patrol had been through and area, they usually didn’t come back for at least at least 10 days or more. This patrol had been through here only three days ago. They must be looking for something. But what were they looking for?

 

 

            It wasn’t long before Summit and Twitch found out. It was almost dark and they were preparing to move out when they heard something large crashing through the bushes below. Whatever it was, it was big and headed in their direction – with a Satyr patrol right after it. Laser beams streaked through the dust leaving puffs of acrid smoke everywhere they touched. It was not enough light to see what they were chasing, but it was enough light to target the Satyrs.

            Summit deftly changed the head of her crossbow bolt to an explosive tip – one of four she had left. Twitch, not waiting for her direction, began to season the general area with needles from his pistol. They were unlikely to cause serious damage at this range but they would cause pain. Besides, he might get a lucky shot.

            Summit targeted down the shaft of the black painted bolt and squeezed the trigger. The eighty pound crossbow gave an audible “thunk” and a bit of a kick. While there was no muzzle flash to give away their position, she was afraid the noise might have.

            Without waiting to see what damage the first shot had done, she pulled back from the opening. She heard and felt the explosion. Still seated, the next bolt between her teeth, she put her foot in the stirrup and pulled against the bow with both hands. The string locked in place. She quickly let the second bolt fly targeting 50 feet closer to the Archology than the last one. While she reloaded the crossbow with the third bolt, Twitch continued to fire. The second arrow grenade went off. He had light now from the explosions and could see the targets.

            “Miss’ Ummit,” he said pointing, “juss there. Between your lass two shotss and to the right a dossen feet.”

            This time Summit paused before firing. Knowing where to look from Twitch’s direction, it only took a few seconds to target the four Satyr’s. She let fly once more, this time watching the arrow grenade impact. All four were thrown to various directions of the compass, landing hard against the ground or remnants of trees their race had desecrated. None of them showed any immediate signs of moving.

            By the light of the fires started in the dried out brush, they could see a figure lying face down on the ground some ten meters closer to the Archology than its pursuers. By the flickering flames, it was hard to tell what race it was – only that it wore some kind of uniform.

            The brush fires were beginning to spread rapidly. There had been no rain for months and the brush had died and turned to kindling. If they wanted to finish their rescue attempt before the fire bar-b-cued the former victim, they had to get down 28 floors as fast as they could. Summit hoped there were no more patrols. Because of their haste they made a lot of noise that seemed to echo forever up and down the interior staircase.

            They both ran toward the fallen sophont, but Twitch got there first. By the time Summit caught up, she was out of breath. She pulled out her torch and looked at the body on the ground before her. There were laser burns through his uniform, which now that she was up close she could tell was a vacc suit. There were other burns on and through his fur; he was bleeding in several place.      She recognized him as an ursoid – the first she had ever seen outside of a vid.

            “C’mon, Twitch,” she said. “Help me roll him over onto his back.” It took several tries but they finally succeeded.

            “Iss he alive, Miss ‘Ummit?” Twitch asked with concern. “Iss he alive?”

            “I think so,” she replied.

            The ursoid then opened one eye and said in heavily accented Galanglic, “Arr they gone yet?”

 

 

            Summit was ticked that the ursoid had made them do all that work for nothing but she tried not to show it. “No they are not, do you want me to call them for you?”

            “That won’t be necessarrry with as much noise as you two ‘az made.” He looked at Twitch with an accusatory furrow in his brow. “I thought twitchers wuz supposed to be quieter than that. She’s a human an gots an excuse, but you – I’d’a ‘spected better.”

            Twitch looked offended: his nose was in the air and his hands on where his hips would be if he were a human. “Huh, well if you can moves it mister, you’d better. Thess Satyrs are tough an’ bounce back quicks. Miss ‘Umit, lets uss go an’ leave Mr. Charming to hiss fate. Maybe we should’ve left him to it an not interfered.”

            “Now hold on,” the ursoid said as he sat up. He was stiff from the chase and tried to rub some life back into his limbs. “Maybe you should be comin’ with me. I got a ship that set down a bit to hard not furr from here. Its getting darker an if there is one patrol, there is like another. What happened to the furst fellas?”

            “They are over there a few yards – explosion knocked them cold,” Summit said.

            “Good,” the ursoid stood. He was old and gray around the muzzle and a little stooped. Even so, he was the largest sophont that either of them had seen before – better than eight feet in height.  He moved his back, twisting it, trying to work the kinks out of it. He looked around for a moment and found what he needed. He took a few steps to his right then reached down and picked up a meter long tree branch the size of a man’s arm.

            “I’ll be right back. Don’t you two move.” With that he disappeared in the general direction of the disabled Mozie patrol.

 

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            “It’s tharr right in front of you,” the ursoid said.

            “Where?” said Summit, “I don’t see it.”

            “Me neither,” added Twitch.

            “If you could see it, then it wouldn’t be much of a camouflage circuit then would it.” The ursoid frowned and shook his head. He pulled a device from his coverall pocket and punched a couple of numbers into the key pad. After a moment, the camouflage instantly dropped. Summit had half expected there to be a popping noise then she reminded herself the ship didn’t transport from somewhere, it had been there all along.

            The ship was small as star ships go – she guessed somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and twenty-five tons. It was about as trampy a tramp trader as she had ever seen but given her hosts general bad humor, she didn’t think it wise to bring it up.

            “Hurry up, get inside – I don’t have all day.” Then he pointed at Twitch. “An you, don’t touch nothin’. I don’t want any of my ciruits rearraged or stuff ‘fixed.’ Just keep your hands off my stuff.”

            “Well, I never…” Twitch was interrupted in mid sentence.

            “An I don’t believe that neither. Hands in your pockets Misterr. I’m watching’ you.” The ursoid made the sign of pointing at his own eyes, then at Twitch several times.

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STAR SEEKER: 

LORDS OF LUTHORIA

(Originally from Book 6)

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          When I decided to change the direction of Adventure 7 from Praxis Paradigm to Children of Charon, I had to go back and alter the final chapters of Adventure 6 Lords of Luthoria. What you see here is the set up by Captain Lane and the soul serching of Arnog. There still maybe a time when Arnog becomes Prince of Praxis. What do you think?

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STAR SEEKER:

LORDS OF LUTHORIA

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO : PRINCE OF PRAXIS

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            “Arnog, this is most secret stuff that I am about to share with you,” Captain Lane said. “This is not to be shared with any of your crew mates or your family. I am not withholding this information of my own accord, but these are the restrictions that were place on me. Agreed?”

            “Agreed,” echoed Arnog. Captain Lane tossed Arnog a PADD.

            “Look up the file named Praxis,” Lane directed. Arnog delicately thumbed the controls. “While you are doing that, these were part of my original orders before we all got bounced out of the Scout Corps. When we reached the point that we have reached now: the point where the situation has stabilized, we were to go on to our next mission.”

            Arnog found the file. “This seems to be a description of a planet, one that was close by Osmani space, but too far for an Osmani ship to make it on its own.”

            “Well,” Captain Lane clarified, “the ship might make it, but the crew wouldn’t – at least not with outside help. The details are there for you to read for your self, but let me sum up for now,” Captain Lane offered. Arnog put the PADD down and gave the Captain his undivided attention.

            “It is a “goldilocks” planet, a name taken from an ancient earth story,” the Captain began.

            “That is a story I am familiar with. I once played one of the “three bears,” Arnog smiled at the Captain.

            “I remember, now. And like the mischievous little girl said about her porridge: the planet is not to hot, not too cold, but just the right temperature. It is a terra prime planet with the exception of an atmospheric taint. The taint will be annoying to us, but nothing Scouts can’t handle with our implants. Osmani, with their larger lung capacity should scarcely notice it.”

            “So are Osmani to go with you to explore it?” Arnog extrapolated.

            “Osmani are to go with us to settle it,” the Captain responded. “The Duke makes you an offer that I hope you will accept. If you do, Praxis is to be a jointly settled human/Osmani world outside of the technical limits treaties between the Confederacy and the Empire.

            “But my people will be lost!” Arnog was quick to voice his concern. “In such a society, what can they be but common laborers?”

            “That is just why we are founding this settlement, so they won’t have to be.” Lane explained patiently. He had expected this reaction. Arnog was wise and quick to see the problem.

            “You know that eventually technology will leak into your protected society bubble. When it does, your people may be enslaved by it. On Praxis, they may learn on their own, at their own pace. Instead of being swallowed up by new technologies, they will have a chance to master the skills they need for survival.”

            “We will begin by teaching skills to the soldiers of the Regiment. When they leave the service, they will take those skills with them. Look how much they have learned already. They are already becoming computer techs, medics, plumbers, mechanics and electricians.”

            “I am not too sure of this, Captain.” Arnog warned.

            “Then I do not ask you commit to it until you are. I know you, Arnog. You will go and pray to the Maker and you will find the right decision for you and for your people. If we have to, the humans can settle it alone. But together, we can learn to live together and learn how our two species can get along. Captain Lane paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair before continuing.

            “Also consider this,” Captain Lane added. “This is an opportunity for all races of ursoids to live together on one planet: blacks, browns, whites, Mallians and Cisellans. It is an opportunity for them to experience democracy, find out what it is like to live in a self-determining society; to take responsibility for their own destiny and future. Even if we fail, is it not worth the effort to try?”

            Arnog said nothing. He did not look at the Captain directly but had his ‘thoughtful’ face on, sifting through the possibilities of what the Captain was offering. Captain Lane had thought Arnog would jump at the chance to settle a new world without the old boundaries that had kept Osmani society static for two or more centuries. He was beginning to think he may have been mistaken. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that Arnog was not human.

            “Captain,” Arnog said, “I am a member of this crew. I will go wherever this ship goes and perform my duties to my ship, my crew, to you and to my Maker. What you are asking is beyond my duties as a member of this crew, as Chaplin or even as an Ambassador. There is much to consider.”

            “I know,” replied Captain Lane. “After reading the report, if you find something we have missed, please tell us. I do not wish to force you or your people into an unequal alliance. I believe we can make this work – make this work for both our peoples.”

            “Now, Captain,” Arnog said as he rose abruptly from his chair, “I have other duties to attend to. If you will excuse me,” Arnog turned and left the room without waiting for permission from his commanding officer. Captain Lane marveled. This was the closest thing to rude that the Captain had ever seen from Arnog. His proposal must have affected the Osmani more deeply than he realized.

 

 

            It was true that Arnog has something he had to do – he had to discuss this with his Maker. Immediately after leaving the conference room, he sought out the solitude of his cabin. Fortunately, Tigrin was somewhere else for the moment. Arnog regretted his rudeness toward the Captain and chided himself for it, shaking his head and making a mental note to apologize later.

            The Osmani deliberately locked the cabin door behind him. He touched the switch that lowered the table / bed so that it was flush with the floor creating one big flat open space in the stateroom. He first fell to his knees then stretched out on the floor on with his massive arms out before him to pray as he only did when he was in great emotional distress. He had only done this twice before since he had put on his Scout uniform. The first time was when he found his friend and brother Taukrah and saw how his soul had been twisted and misshapen by years in the arena. He had prayed then for him to step back into the light and be healed by the Maker. The second was for the injured and now restored Nasrina Lockman when she lay close to death; a victim of a slaver’s frag grenade. He had prayed intensely for her full physical recovery although he did so privately, telling no one

            At first he lay silently on the floor. After a few moments he began to sob – for the first time since he had left home nearly seven years ago feeling totally lost. He felt betrayed – or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of in that moment of time was that he needed the comfort of his Creator. He knew that praise and worship was the quickest way to the Creator’s front door. He began by remembering the great things that He had done for him, the great gifts of life and love and being and purpose. He meditated on the Holy Book and the wonderful things revealed there that were still as yet beyond his experience. But an inheritance that he knew would one day be his. Finally, he was ready.

            “Maker,” Arnog continued praying. “What I have feared has come upon us. While I do not believe there is any evil intent on the part of Captain Lane, there is potential for much evil in what he suggests.

            I do not know which path to choose. And even if I decline to encourage my people to cooperate, how do I know that the humans will go along and do this without my participation? How do I know they will not appeal to one of my family for help?

            If that is what is in their hearts, is it not better to have a hand in what they are doing? Should I use my influence to help make a bad situation better or walk away from my people and their plight completely?” Words failed him for the moment. He gathered his thoughts and continued, laying out what was on his heart.

            “Seemingly, there is wisdom in what he suggests. It would be better that my people learn to use new technologies before they flood us and isolate us. It will be very hard for this generation, because there will still be those who are left behind. Without this transition generation, society will be shaken to its core.

            Creator, you alone know the plans of a man’s or an ursoid’s heart. Purify mine so that I may see as you see so that Your Glory may be spread across the stars, Amen.” He then lay stretched out on the floor in patient silence, waiting for his God to reply.

 

 

Arnog had decided to encourage his people to settle on Praxis. He had originally thought the task of integrating Osmani and humans into a single society impossible. Still, he sought the Warrior’s will as he promised Captain Lane he would. In his prayers, the Warrior spoke to him: ‘I never call you to do anything you can do in your own strength and power.” Arnog turned those words over and over in his mind. They were humbling words. He understood then why he had been presented this choice. He was right, he couldn’t do it himself – he would have to be sustained by the power and the wisdom of his God. And Arnog would not have it any other way.

 

“Captain Lane?” Ambassador Arnog asked. “If Tigrin and I may have a word with you as soon as everyone else is gone?”

            “Certainly,” he replied, “let’s wait a moment. Mr. Edwards?” the Captain called out. “Will you please tell me when the deck has been cleared?”

            “It is cleared now, Sir,” Wesley answered.

            “Is it okay if Mr. Edwards stays?” the Captain requested.

            “I could think of no other human I would rather have present,” Arnog smiled at Wesley.

            “Captain,” Tigrin began, “accepting this contract may have some unintended consequences.”

            “And what would that be?” Captain Lane was genuinely interested.

            “Well, Captain,” Arnog added, “it is like this. In a joint Osmani human colony I can see no future for my people. With no knowledge of your technology, ursoids will quickly become a subservient race, only good to do menial work.”

            “I understand your concerns.” Lane responded, “and believe it or not, I have given this some consideration. If you will please hear me out: The Osmani Empire lives in a protective bubble that keeps it from interaction with other societies. That bubble is artificially maintained but cannot last forever. Both of you know the opportunities we had to violate the tech bans and supply one side against another with weapons and knowledge, but we didn’t. We did bring changes but those were within the agreed upon limits. We could have equipped a dozen ursoids in advanced battle dress and fusion guns and wiped out Garret instead of going the long route that we did. Imagine what someone could do who was not a man or ursoid of honor with the right equipment.”

            “This base will make it possible for your people to make an easier transition.” Lane continued. “Admittedly, it will be very hard on the generation that has to change over. It was that way with my people. When the industrial revolution came and society began to center on factories and the production of goods, those without skills found life very hard. It was the same way with the technological revolution; it increased production of the individual worker, but then one worker could do what two workers had done before. Many were out of work and had to retrain or accept lesser jobs. The same was true with the energy revolution; and it goes on and on. When society changes, there will always be those who are marginalized or left out.”

            “This is what I believe Praxis will do for your people,” Captain Lane explained. “The Osmani as soldiers are second to none: that will always remain as a profession open to them. What we can do for these soldiers is teach them technology skills while they are in the service. Everyone that retires from service will take those skills with them. They will learn how to be ship mechanics and engineers. They will learn to be carpenters, electricians and plumbers. It’s true that they won’t learn to be nuclear physicist and biochemists; at least not all at once. That will come later, that will be something their children will master.”

             “What Praxis offers is a chance; a chance that will prepare your people for the future. For the immediate future, those who learn advanced skills will be confined to practicing the on Praxis or in human space. But there will come a time when they will be welcomed home as saviors of their people.”

            “So think about it,” the Captain asked. “Think about the possibilities. No, it won’t be easy – but it will be easier than if we simply leave the Osmani to their fate.”

            “May I say something, Captain?” Wesley asked.

            “Sure Mr. Edwards,” the Captain answered, “what’s on your mind?”

            “Arnog, I think about the Malians and their plight,” Wesley offered. “They are hundreds of years behind the Osmani settlers of their world. There is little hope that they will ever close that gap; none at all unless they are trained. If things work out as the Captain intends, then we will be able to take skills back to your people and lift them up technologically so that doesn’t happen to them. We can even train Mallians if we want who would suddenly have the advantage again on their home world.”

            “Captain, Wesley, ” Tigrin replied, “there is no one who knows what you are talking about than I, at least among the ursoids. I brought back some simple knowledge which dramatically reshaped our society and made me very wealthy – wealthy enough to bring a Duke down should I so choose. I know if we multiplied ursoids like me, I believe you called me a ‘merchant prince,’’ if there were a dozen of me, the Empire would cease to exist as we know it.”

            “Yes, that might be true,” the Captain agreed, “and neither the inventions of the cigar or eyeglasses violate the tech treaty. Imagine if it had been something more radical like atomic bombs? Whole worlds could be held hostage. An Emperor could rise to conquer the Empire.” Arnog broke his silence. 

            “Jim,” Arnog used the Captain’s first name the way he did when he got serious and personal. “I do not see how this can work. As well intentioned as this all is, I have reservations about it. It is laudable to have a place where humans, ursoids of all kinds and aslan as well would dwell together in harmony. That is something that I believe would please the Creator. I just have doubts that a human government would know how to do the right thing for the people of another race. You have told me of several examples in your history when the government did not even know what was right for its own people. I have my doubts, I will have to pray.”

            “Arnog,” Jim said reciprocating with the use of his first name. “I understand this. No one would force you to do this if you did not want to. We would simply go on to Praxis without the ursoids who did not wish to go. That would seriously weaken us because we would have no ground protection: but it wouldn’t stop us from following the primary mission of finding the bad guys. You know that I have to do this for my people. We have been attacked and we must find a way to stop it; we must find either a diplomatic or military solution before more innocents die.”

            “I know that you will take this in prayer before our Creator.” Captain Lane continued, “I would expect nothing less from you, my friend. There is just one other thing I want you to know before you make your decision. I want you to lead the government: I want you to be the Prince of Praxis.”

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