Chapter 2: Milk Run - Day 1

((Big thanks for TerRaine and Sloth for all the help editing this chapter, the previous one and as many chapters to come as they can stand! Thank-you!))


December 1st, 6:45am

The tower seemed quite quiet as the other Titans continued to go about their duties with as much diligence and forethought as one might expect at nearly seven in the morning; none what-so-ever.

Well that wasn't strictly true; with the exception of Robin doing some early morning practices outside on the island itself, the garage seemed to be buzzing with the electronic noises of small machines, all running through final checks and balances as three people stood and waited.

"I'd rather you didn't have to go, for obvious reasons." Sophie commented, wrapping her dark dressing gown around her person a little tighter. It wasn't the easiest task in the world, given her current condition, but she had given it the good college try non-the-less. Only a sliver of black silk pajamas would be seen at the apex of her stomach. "But then again if wishes were fishes..."

"...Everyone would ride, I'm aware." He said, offering a shrug as Sophie groaned. Once more, with the mixing of metaphors, the doctor boldly ran. "And I know you want me to stay, but there are just some things that we can't get here. I, also, wish this was not the case but we need these things." He couldn't help but try to sound reassuring.

As much as Sophie was desperate to be mad at him, he had a point.

After the elation of being able to carry a hybrid child subsided, Sophie and Nigel both sat down and started to figure out what was needed to make sure that child could grow up happy and energetic in this new world. The list continued to get longer and longer as the soon-to-be-Mother Titan was growing larger.

After they had finished volume one, the young couple had decided to slim down the list to what was actually needed and not what could be needed, at some point, in the future…maybe. The first thing was gravity weights, which could and would mimic the weight of a set value of G's for one person. Nigel had a set for himself so that he could occasionally set it to Blacktrinia Prime normal, which in earth terms was 3G's; it was unhealthy to go too long without your own natural gravity for anyone, let alone a fragile, always developing, baby.

While he might be able to find the gravity weights on earth, he knew that several items on the list would never be in the corner store. This was of course unless the Empire decided to conquer earth, but the chance of that ever happening was relatively remote, not to mention more than relatively unwelcome considering his status.

One such necessity was specialist medicines for hybrid children, which has been developed some time ago. He remembered when they had hit the shelves some ten years back when he was waiting in the way station to be given his uniform. He was reading a medical magazine, a mere child at the time, who was burying his nose in any book that would save him from the horrors of war. He was now very glad they had a copy of it amongst the piles of weapon catalogues.

The last of Cyborg's machines bleeped and clicked as it gave the all clear; the ship was ready to go.

Nigel slipped a cloak around his shoulders, clasping it shut with a large, silver buckle. The material was thick and waxen, almost akin to hide. It covered his clothes quite well, especially given that it was a dark red shirt, a black jacket with no visible lapels, and simple black slacks; admittedly the slacks were tucked in to hide shin guards and the shirt was tucked in to hide forearm guards, but that's beside the point. His usual clothes were not being packed. That was simply because his usual clothes were based upon the Blacktrinian Medic's uniform, and he wanted to stand out as little as possible.

"And we couldn't send Tim or Noel because..." Sophie started, raising a brow at Nigel as he finished making sure he looked as if he was just another face in the crowd. He'd even cut and dyed his usually unruly, blue mane of hair into a neat, mid length, almost corporate cut and near jet-black. It wouldn't last a month, but at the very least he could wander around without too many people paying attention. Black, it would seem, was a very common hair colour.

"Because they wouldn't know what to look for, and humans are very, very, rare in space regardless of what the television says." He replied, as he stepped towards the ship in the hanger. It was the seemingly all purpose T-ship, which seemed to function as an aircraft, spacecraft and submarine...somehow. Nigel had never quite followed, though he had to admit his grasp of science wasn't quite as adept as his grasp of medicine; the body was a complex machine, but bodies generally worked on the principles of environment working upon them, much like physics was supposed to. He understood that about biology. Physics on the other hand, like magic, was supposed to work on a series of rules that were being imposed upon it, but just seemed to make it up as it went along. Quite frankly, it confused him.

The third person in the room, who had said very little up until this point, appeared from behind the t-ship. Having loaded a few things into the storage compartment and she offered a smile.

"You need not worry, Sister Sophie-" Starfire started, her voice was cheery but tired as she picked up a steaming mug from a workbench nearby. The mug read 'Favourite Alien Princess', and was her most treasured Christmas present from last year. "-He is in the best of hands. I swear to you that we shall be making the grand return!" Her tone was confident and it had put some of Sophie's worries at ease, however, there were still those thoughts that lay treacherously at the back of her mind. Coiled up, poisonous, thoughts that didn't seem to want to leave, no matter how much logic kicked at them.

The thought that he may never return was always there; now more than ever. She wasn't sure what she'd do if that happened; trapped on earth while he was trapped in the stars akin to some mortal representation of Gaia and Uranus, never allowed to be together because of the Atlas of someone else's plan.

God, she thought to herself, being pregnant has made me sappier than ever. Before I know it I'll be wearing a wedding dress and crooning at windows, with candles, and writing really bad poetry.

Sophie gave a weak, and somewhat false, smile as she nodded and placed her hands onto the small of her back. Their child was getting far, far, too heavy to be just standing around.

"There's no way to talk you out of this?" She asked, a slight laugh entering into her voice. It seemed more akin to gallows humour than anything else, but it was the best she could muster.

"None." He responded, succinctly. "I have never run from a challenge, and I have little intention to do so now."

"Well there was Halloween when you met Jason..."

"Please. I do not wish to remember." Nigel's voice was leaden as he shook his head and smiled, walking close and placing his broad, clawed hands on her soft shoulders. "It will be okay. And I'll be back soon, I promise." He nodded, before bringing her close and holding her tightly. Even as he held her close, he felt the shift of weight in her belly, announcing that their daughter had just woken up inside her mother. He could never help but smile when he felt this, and it almost drove him to his knees each time.

"Alright, but if you're not back by Christmas, I'm going to space and kicking your ass." She said, pointing at his face with a smile. He nodded in kind and was given a goodbye kiss for his troubles. He then knelt down and pointed a clawed finger at Sophie's rather expansive middle as he rested his other hand upon it delicately.

"And you, don't you dare do anything until I get back or I will make you do sums during your summer vacation." Sophie winced as the child squirmed. While it was very magical in and of itself, the feeling of life forming and moving inside you, being to full term by human standards and premature by Blacktrinian standards caused the whole process to be uncomfortable. It didn't help that the baby felt like a "Fifteen pounder", as Ryce would say. She had been hoping that when she hit month eight that she'd be looking forward to being able to bend in the middle again soon, and be able to see her feet once more...only to hit month nine and to not even have a false contraction. She asked if this was normal and Nigel could only shrug. As far as he was aware there was no discernible evidence that a Human and a Blacktrinian had ever lain with one another before, let alone had a hybrid child.

Of course, the time-scale misunderstanding had yet to be fully realised. He was running on a whole bag of confused, hence another reason for the trip. He stood up and smiled, before strolling over to the T-ship and loading the last of his belongings on board.

Star approached her this time, and smiled broadly. "Do not be afraid, my adopted little sister, for I shall return your 'baby daddy' to you in a safe and secure state as soon as the time is possible." She hugged her across the shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze of reassurance.

Sophie returned it with a sigh and shake of her head, "Kory, PLEASE stop learning slang from Ryce."

Her own clothes were slightly different. Rather than the normal purple skirt and top that she had worn while on earth, she had changed it out for something slightly darker in shade. It was still of the traditional Tamaranean cut, but the light purple was now almost black, and the patches of skin were covered by an armoured under-layers. Her long, luxurious, hair was tied up tight and held back by a Tamaranean headdress.

Sophie would still kill for that hair, she thought to herself. "Come back soon, Star, we need our little sun to make the world bearable." She joked, smiling and giving the alien one last squeeze before letting her go. The alien nodded in agreement and patted Sophie's stomach before turning away.

And with that she, too, boarded the T-ship. A claw and a hand waved at Sophie as the bay doors opened, showing off that the sun had yet to completely rise over the horizon. The deep thrum of the ship's engines warming caused Sophie to cover her ears and take a few steps back.

The last few switches and checks were done inside the ship and with a nod from the co-pilot, Scalpel engaged the thrusters and took the craft out of the hanger and promptly started to head out of orbit. On the beach, Tim waved a languid hand to them as they departed. He and Star had said their goodbyes the night before, but he still wanted to be out early to wave them off.

Sophie watched them depart, with a sheen to her eyes and a warble in her voice. She knew in her heart that they'd look after each other; they were a family. It was the one thing that most other heroes and villains never understood about them; they cared too deeply for each other to ever leave one of their own behind.

Still, ice cream was very much the order of the day at this point; today was going to suck otherwise.


Of course things were going well enough. The transition from atmosphere to space was relatively easy. The trip was going well and actually becoming enjoyable. It was rare that Nigel and Kory ever really got to talk to each other, alien to alien. Of course Nigel, being rather introverted when it came to questions, and Kory, being rather extroverted when it came to answers, extended their talking time quite a lot due to this verbose/taciturn dynamic. Even that, however, only lasted a few hours before they grew comfortably quiet in each other's company.

On the way, the unusual pair stopped a few times as they decided that breaks as needed; not from each other, but from the fact that space flight was only marginally less boring than watching paint dry. The occasional asteroid meant that it had won out over Sunburst Yellow on a wall. Barely; It was a painfully close race.

It had taken them some time to reach their destination, with those few stops along the way just to stretch their legs. Not to mention, the occasional blindly furious shouting match over directions and what certain buttons on the t-ship do. Quarrels that reached the point of making people think the Tamaranean/Blacktrinian conflict had started all over again. Still, they had reached their destination in one piece, and that was a small blessing in and of itself, considering many of the dangers of space travel.

While earth was just far enough out of the way that most space faring people didn't really attend much, in the grand-scheme of things, some of space culture had started to crop up in the neighbouring systems. Built on the surface of a large, shelf-like, asteroid segment, was a series of tall greyish structures, designed to withstand impacts and bombardments. There was a holographic sign writ-large across the front of the main structure; Welcome to Anachrony Station.

Anachrony Station was named such because of its age, built back when a building had to withstand asteroids by sheer ablative plating alone, rather than high-tech energy shielding. However, the new owner, a prominent scrap baron known as Sklerk the Wise, didn't want the insides; he wanted the shell and the asteroid segment it resided on.

So he gutted it, replaced the old junk heap of a reactor with one that worked much more cleanly, replaced the insides of the large, greying, structures with pre-fabricated housing and store fronts, and had the entire thing towed to a way-point between various planets of intergalactic importance. He had installed energy shielding to compliment the massive armour plated outsides and rebuilt the hanger bay from scratch to accommodate visitors of all classes, from the poor, travelling merchant with a busted old cargo freighter, to the alien prince with a luxury, X-55 Hyper-thruster, sports shuttle.

Soon, people arrived out of curiosity, but started to settle on the station and created permanent homes and stores that people could trade with; that they knew would be there. This meant that those that had not set up a lasting base could trade with those that had and gain the old era quality of a familiar face to trade with, who in turn would trade to their customers for a fare and even price. Business rapport began to form. The entire structure became a self-contained economy, everyone trading off one another and doing business with the visitors who came in from the various different parts of space to buy their wares. All the while paying out a sum of cash to the top floor, where they then sent it off to the owner.

It was, for lack of a better term, a giant galactic shopping centre. And that's just exactly why so many beings liked it; they could get what they needed on one of the many floors and if they couldn't, it could always be ordered in.

As the T-ship touched down, there was already a mass of people milling around, examining ships and ticking off registers. As Nigel jumped out of the craft, he was forced to yell in his native tongue at a cluster of people that had tried to swamp the ship.

"You! Go away! Shoo! We don't want a valet service!" He yelled, making sweeping motions with his hands to encourage the beetle-like aliens with mops and buckets to move on to the next ship that was arriving in docks. Nigel noted that written on their backs, on the shell itself was the name of a astro-detailing company for cleaning and maintenance of space-ships.

As they scuttled on, Kory landed gracefully and gave him his hat. Unlike the broad-brimmed, bright red hat he usually wore, this one was much closer to an old, leather Shako without any real ornamentation. He smiled pleasantly, pulled his, temporarily, black hair back and stuffed it on his head.

"Excuse me, Sir, Madam." A voice called from their side where a man stood with a computer slate in hand, holding it like the clipboards of yesteryear. He was a small, red coloured man with large, flat, tendrils coming from his forehead and folding back behind him. Twitching his eyebrows caused them to raise and lower, as if they were antenna. Behind him swished a tail as he spoke. "Welcome to Anachrony Station; I am Administrator Fallwood. For the safety and security of our patrons, may I request a name and the serial number of your ship?" He pushed a pair of gold glasses further up a subtly lizard-like snout.

"You may take my name." Kory put on an air of superiority, standing up straight and placing her hands on her hips. She needed to do this; the less attention on Nigel the better. All it took was one person recognizing him to lead a lot of trouble for both of them. He had gained a lot of scars and a few years since the war, but only one of them was on his face, so hopefully the black hair and the changed demeanour would do. "I am Amand'r, and the ship is the T-S-H-1-P." She indicated the orange ship with a smile as she spoke in crystal-clear Galactic Common.

"Looks rather unique." He said, scratching it down on to the tablet with a protruding finger. He had said this with some confusion, but they were unsure if it was the good sort. The kind where he was just amazed, or the bad sort, where he had found something out he wasn't supposed to.

"It was a custom build." She returned, as if it was a matter of great pride.

"Very well, Miss Amand'r." He pressed a button and pulled from the tablet a small slip of paper. A snapping motion later and he handed it to her. "This is your docking number. The charge for stay is set up and we will take great care. We are nothing if not diligent for the discerning ladies in these parts." He grinned, it was sharp as if someone had crossed a crocodile smile with a human jaw line, though the intention was not menacing. Some species, Nigel knew, just had very sharp smiles.

"Friend." Nigel spoke, his common tongue coming out a bit more accented with a harsh, Germanic style edge, as Fallwood had turned to leave. A few Blacktrinian coins moved from claw to hand. "Keep people away from My Lady's ship, yes?" He put on a rougher overtone to the accent, making him sound much dumber and brusque than he was. It made him sound like a dim witted brute. The Administrator looked quite offended at the shining metal in his hand.

"Sir! I don't know what you think this place is, but this is a place of reputable business and we do not accept bribes to turn down-" The amount in his hand doubled. The administrator weighed it in his palm as the blocky, heavy, Blacktrinian currency clattered against itself.

"I didn't quite hear you." Nigel said, looking meaningfully at the Administrator, who paused.

"Why of course, sir! A bespoke service, that's what we provide at Anachrony Station!" It was his turn, now, to shoo away the beetle like creatures with the royal blue carapaces that had attempted to, once more, clamber on to the T-ship and wash the widows. "Your vehicle shall remain unmolested, and your lady shall find our service fit for the king of the Empire itself." He bowed to the two as they nodded in approval.

"See that it does." Nigel finished. He felt his stomach drop with the mention of the Emperor, but kept the act going nonetheless.

"Yes, of course, yes! And, my dear lady and her dutiful man, oh what is the phrase? May your suns be soft and your days be filled with the laughter of your loved ones." He said, managing to mangle two phrases together from both Tamaran and the Empire. Though, if you asked the Titans, they would never have been able to tell you which went where. The Administrator bustled off, talking to a few more people who had arrived next to them, with a fresh spring in his step.

"Won't that draw attention to us?" Kory asked, floating up as Nigel picked up the bags.

"Maybe, but it might also draw attention to us if we didn't." He shrugged, following after her with their luggage, playing up the part of manservant. "Besides, this way there won't be anyone playing around with the ship while we're inside. I don't want to come back to find the ignition computer has been cut out of the ship."

"You've got a point there." She commented, as they both spoke common as if it was a casual thing, unlike the blocky sounding earthen the two had a broken understanding of.

In the background, standing next to one of the men with clipboards, a man watched the departing pair with a certain interest.


"Wait a moment, wait a moment." Gauntlet said, holding up a hand and chuckling as he looked over to Nigel and Kory as they retold their story. Nigel ran a clawed hand through his, once again, blue hair. It hadn't returned to its normal length, but it always grew back slowly. "I thought the Empire won your little war…"

"For a start it wasn't little-" Kory said with some irritation, but even her most fierce irritation was almost tainted by the corruption of her kind heart. Rob regretted his choice of words almost instantly, but she held no grudge against him for a poor selection.

"And they didn't win, they drew. It was a tie, in earth language." Nigel responded, looking over at his friend.

"Okay, fair, so how come Kory wasn't your maid rather than you as her man-servant? Wouldn't that be more normal?" He asked, pointing between the two. For several people, there was a brief mental flash of the image of Kory in a rather fetching maid's uniform, before it was shaken out of their heads. The reason being that this was vastly too inappropriate to think that way of their long-term friend. The only four who did not were Robin and Kory, whose thoughts were allowed to travel that way, Sophie, whose hormones were forcing her to have a hard enough time ignoring certain urges and the mental picture kept cropping up, and Ryce who…well, was always inappropriate. This was a surprise to no one.

"Several reasons; one of which is that I was trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. If I have a servant, then I instantly am more recognizable in the crowd." Nigel said, scratching at his eyebrow, ignorant of the flush still on Sophie's face as she bit her own lip, before burying herself in to her hot chocolate again. "I am a deserter, remember? I'm not popular with my own people."

"Makes sense." Noel nodded as he remembered what few stories that he actually got out of Nigel about his life before coming to earth. Even after all these years, trying to get Nigel to open up about his time during the war was like trying to open a can of soup without a tin opener; next to impossible, but you might get a few trickles or drips out.

"The other reason," Kory started, sounding almost sage-like as she raised a finger. "Tamaran was the underdog in the war; I would be looked upon with favour to have a Blacktrinian Man-maid, rather than an overbearing Blacktrinian Bully with a Tamaranean maid." She nodded.

Sophie's face went bright and hot as the thoughts shifted from Star in that costume, to Nigel. Despite his appearance, she did find him sexually attractive, otherwise she wouldn't be in the condition she was in. She buried herself in to her hot chocolate again, trying to hide behind what little whipped cream and what few marshmallows were still there. Beside her, Ryce gave a chuckle and produced a can of whipped cream, topping her mug off.

"Aye, that doesn't get back to normal even in the months after, by the by."

"Yeah, well, trying not to think of it seems to make it worse." She whispered to Ryce, as she tried to think any thought that wasn't Nigel wearing practically nothing with increasingly little success. Raven blushed herself, feeling the emotions radiating from Sophie as if she was sat next to a radiator of sexually frustrated embarrassment.

"Why do you try and not?" Ryce whispered in to Sophie's ear, which caused her face to nearly melt the whipped cream in her mug.

"S-so anyway!" She and Sophie both said at the same time, with a similar stammer, in a hope to get back to the point. Ryce broke in to a snigger but controlled herself, just about.

"But why the disguise? Why not just grab some Holopins?" Rob jumped in again, pointing to Cyborg, before the aliens could continue their story. Met, meanwhile, tried not to laugh at the two blushing gothic belles.

"Want to cover this one?" Noel asked, patting the half-machine on the shoulder as a way to tag him into this conversation.

"Those things work here, but they give off a huge photonic signature. If we took them into place with extraterrestrial-grade sensor equipment they might be picked up straight away." He took a pull from the bottle and then pointed a finger at the alien man and woman. "At the moment they're just a Tamaranean and a Blacktrinian."

"Curse you logic, thou hast defeated me!" Rob lamented as we went back to lying down and listening.

"Please continue." Noel prompted.


As the two travelled through the crowded streets inside of the Asteroid, they ran through their head what they had worked out on the way. Star would play up the fact she was some sort of big-shot celebrity or aristocrat from Tamaran and Nigel would play the dumb brute that followed her as a bodyguard. They had booked a hotel room ahead of time under the false name that Kory had given out, and from there they'd get their supplies. At least, that was the plan, though as Noel would insist and as Nigel knew, plans rarely survived contact with anyone, let alone the enemy.

The streets were swamped with people; men and women from all species seemed to fill as much space as humanly, or in some cases inhumanly, possible. Organics, machines and other...things seemed to make walking across the street a challenge. Stores had people coming and going, some returning and some having decided that it was not in their wallet's best interest to spend their time there. Signs showed moving figures talking to the men and women that passed by, trying to get Kal'nak of Redmire V to come to the theatre and watch the great Blacktrinian tragedy of the Queen of Tears. The light, which was dim and high up, was supplemented with the street signs making the world feel as if they were in permanent, neon filled, dusk.

"This place must be the size of a city." Nigel said, as he followed the floating Kory down the street. A floating Tamaran woman, especially one that looked like Kory, tended to get audiences moving out of their way in awe. Nigel had the same effect for the opposite reason. "It is reminding me of the earth mall of shopping." He spoke. Star, looking somewhat amazed, turned around to him.

"The shopping mall?" She asked, her grasp of the common tongue much better than that of earthen English. Nigel's lack of an extensive education outside of medicine was starting to show through, as he hummed and harred for a spell.

"I think so?" He shrugged. His arms were laden with luggage, which caused the entire appearance bob up and then down as they continued to trudge through the street. He looked up at the sky, or rather the tall roof, which had a series of lights across a metallic racking for this floor. Even so, buildings the size of the T-Tower filled the enclosed space. Nigel's mind boggled. "Are you in remembering of where the building of rooms and sleep is? The name that it goes by?"

"...Did I really sound like that on earth?" She asked. Nigel paused, putting it through a filter. Many people asked how he had managed to speak English so well; they had often joked that it had been from television, and actually that was not too far from the truth. The Blacktrinians had obtained an earth probe, which contained in it their literature, their television and even some genetic samples. Taking this, and having done some rather...unfortunate experiments on the Tamaranean physiology, they had developed a sort of genetic memory translator. With a sample of flesh, or genetic memory, they could learn a language that was native to that creature. Nigel didn't quite understand it himself, but the general idea was that the memory of a certain language ran through the veins of a certain people as they had grown up with it and it had changed and evolved with them.

Nigel thought it was mostly bunk, but it worked so he wasn't going to complain.

The main problem with this was that galactic common...wasn't native to anyone. It was a made up language in its entirety, and made up from hundreds of cultures, all adding their two cents to make this traders language. It was a true melting pot of a language. It was originally known as Galactic Trader, but the traders moved so far and became so engrained in space faring culture that it had changed to Galactic Common.

Starfire's formal education, one that any royal of Tamaranean blood would expect, had allowed her many opportunities to leave her world and speak with enough people that she had become almost fluent. Scalpel's education consisted of his eight year old self being thrown into the under-funded medical training centre while every other kid was in command and leadership classes. He learned medicine for most of his life and galactic common became an afterthought when he needed to barter for goods and services for his home planet. Spirits knew none of those idiotic farm hands knew how to speak it.

"I think so, yes." He finally replied, having to translate it from Common, through Blacktrinian and into English, before heading all the way back again. She laughed a good-humoured chuckle that seemed to lighten the air. Nigel, meanwhile, was too busy looking over his shoulder. His eyes traced the crowd trying to see anyone looking at him, or rather anyone staring.

He was lucky that most people were paying attention to Star, and not to him. Still, he couldn't help but feel he was being watched.

"Calm yourself, my friend." Star reassured, still trying to appear aloof and detached. She couldn't help but want to aid the man; they had worked together for years and so she wanted to offer something to help keep down his personal paranoia. "While we could not wear the Holopins, we did what we could, and I assure you we will be fine."

"I hope so." He responded, lowly, as he pulled the peak of his shako hat down lower over his features to try and hide his bright blue eyes as they pushed their way through the crowd. More of the insect like beetles were cleaning and repairing a series of floating, rotating, signs that hovered in the air. The sign was for the Weaponite Arms Company. They specialised in mechanical bodyguards, considering that they themselves were synthetic life, and projectile weapons, considering that their form was based off earth weapons circa 1943. They were created, in part, by a progenitor race of such awesome technology that they had promptly wandered off because they were bored, and left the newly forged weapon people to their own devices. The Weaponites had, until recently, not been recognised as a sapient species, until one of them had managed to prove to the Galactic Coalition that they had achieved all the prerequisites of being proven to be alive. Nigel and Kory made it a point to get news feeds from the stars as often as possible.

"I wonder if Earther stations will be like this in the future." Nigel said, trying to think of anything to take his mind off the fact he was walking on very thin ice.

"I hope not." Star said, rubbing her jaw line with a slightly discomforted look. She could feel the fight of the gravity generators in the back of her teeth as she hovered in the air. "They need more trees, less metal deck flooring."

"At least it is not too much bright." He replied.

As they turned one last corner, they came across a towered building, its frontage was seemingly all glass, but as the tower grew higher there seemed to be larger, and larger, balconies until the top floor, which seemed to be all balcony giving it a strange tree like effect. The bottom level had ornate holo-windows which had noise suppressants and allowed you to look in, but not out and allowed large objects, such as thrown suitcases, to pass through but small things, such as rain, to be stopped.

On the insides, the holographic projectors made the windows look as if it were a bright day, or a clouded, rainy sky, or some other place entirely. Nigel had actually considered getting this for his room, so that on days where he wanted to, he could sit in a relaxing rainstorm without ruining his clothes and traipsing a trail of water in through the Tower, despite the fact the day outside was far too bright for him.

"The Pitor Hotel?" He asked, curiously, turning to Star as she seemed to be on the verge of having an excitement-based panic attack.

"Pitor is a continent from my world! It's beautiful and the people there are always so friendly!" She said, clapping her hands together before she remembered who she was supposed to be and cleared her throat. "I mean, it's pretty good." She said, noting that the beetles from before were back and cleaning the windows. Or at least she thought it was them; as bad as it sounded to her own mind a lot of them seemed very similar given their insectile nature. She could tell them apart, and they were all unique, it's just that from the back, where you had the logo seemingly stenciled or tattooed to the carapace, it was difficult to tell. Either way they had done a good job; the windows were all clear of dust, the metal cleaned of rust and the entire tower was gleaming.

Maybe they should have let them valet the T-ship…

"This place looks to be made of the expensive." Nigel butchered the language more, looking up and down at the hotel. The light above this particular building was not on, given that the building itself seemed to stretch to just under the high ceiling. "It also stands out too much. It is a good thing that we are not to be staaayyy-you have already booked us the room, did you not?"

"….Maaaaybe."

"K-, er, Amand'r, We are to be supposed to stay on the low down." Nigel hissed, his glances becoming more frantic as he searched the crowd for other Blacktrinians who might be watching him. Given their general numbers across the universe, there were Blacktrinians in the crowd, but next to no one that were paying attention to him; at a café near by a veteran, who was missing most of one arm and had a form of cybernetic replacement, was laughing and joking with another that almost the mirror opposite injures, except that his friend had a mechanical eye as well. His ears picked up them joking about how they looked pretty good, considering that a Tamaranean bomb exploded in their faces.

"Yes, and your sudden frantic movements are drawing more attention than this stay ever would." Starfire gave her friend a slightly tired look. Nigel looked slightly sheepish, but no less nervous. "There are many reasons I went with this particular hotel, one of which is Tamaran hospitality! It is some of the greatest in the entire known universe." Her voice carried the words with pride, though it also carried a little bit of patriotic bias, but Nigel couldn't exactly complain. He, himself, had been boastful about the medical advances made by the Empire.

"Either way, are you sure this is wise?" He asked, his eyes darting around as he heard his familiar tongue being spoken. Again, there was little to be concerned about; it was a mother and father carrying and walking with a handful of children. The father held one close to his chest, who was too young to walk, while the other three children tugged at their clawed hands with their gloved ones and asked, rather emphatically, to go to the park and run around. The parents had a tired look, and nodded as they detoured up a street.

"I don't see why not, after all, I'm supposed to be important." Star pulled a compact from her belt and held it up to her face. She then took a little dark red face paint and rubbed it between her fingers for a good coat, before smearing it in a thick line across her eyes. She then took another finger full and spread it down the centre of her bottom lip and to her chin. She did this as a prop, Tim would have said, as a way to mask or hide her identity as everyone will be looking at the paint rather than the person.

She placed the compact away, licking her fingers and rubbing the paint off them, before she floated in to the entrance hall of the hotel. Nigel took one last look around, before following her in, putting on the mask of the brute again.

White eyes watched them from the shadows, with great curiosity. He was far from blind, though his eyes were not as good as his hearing. How very curious, that whole situation had been. The boy had been far too paranoid to spot him.

How very curious.

Things had not gone too well upon their entering the hotel. Star hit the ground and marched in as if she owned the place. While most Tamaraneans seemed taller than the teen when they visited some years ago, she had grown quite a few inches and her shoulders had broadened out giving her a powerful, amazonic, hourglass figure. The curve of her hips and swell of her breasts, which Tara had once commented on by giving her the nickname "Balloon Bod", a loving moniker that had not lasted after a few…assertive displays of displeasure on the Tamaranean's part, was completely overshadowed by the rest of the soldier image. So as she stood they noted the head-dress, the armour, the war paint, the girl's muscles and how she carried herself. It was impressive so say the least and she seemed to gleam with barely contained red rage that could snap a man in half.

Though it was slightly spoiled when Nigel was tackled by two awaiting guards when alarms blared out, especially as he started fighting back when they tried to cuff him. Kory swiftly attempted to calm the situation, to stop Nigel from running rampant in a blind panic, but it only succeeded in speeding the oncoming brawl, in a flurry of luggage, broken weapons and more.

One of the guards was thrown out of the Holo-window with a crash. Most would consider this strange and violent behaviour, but given that it was a Tamaranean hotel, a lot of the onlookers simply looked and walked on. A few watched with interest but without complaint, and the store across the street took bets with the Kelball vendor on the corner to see if anyone else would go through the window. The store owner lost as the guard got up and promptly ran back in to the hotel, only to be floored in one punch.

Then the manager arrived, understandably unhappy, storming from his office with fists raised and eyes glowing brilliant green with righteous fury. It faltered when he came to face a very annoyed Starfire, a remarkably stressed out Scalpel and his two guards who were both unconscious on the floor.

"WHAT is going on in MY HOTEL?!" He demanded, trying to regain his lost footing.

"Why do you think you can just randomly attack me?!" Kory's own eyes were ablaze and her fists clenched so tightly they were shaking. Nigel was never sure but something about being around her species always brought out Kory's angry side. If he had placed more time on psychology he might have deduced it was some deep-seated resentment, but he hadn't so he only got half the picture.

The aging Tamaran man, who sported a thick beard and a middle age spread that he attempted to fight on more than one occasion, did not really want to anger this young warrior as she stood over the bodies of his two rather expensive guards.

"They would not have stepped in if there was not a good reason!" He shouted, trying to prove his rage was more appropriate than hers, given that she had destroyed his property and his guards. Nigel gathered up the bags, muttering to himself in Blacktrinian. Star winced; she couldn't understand the guttural language but she could read his expression; he was going to panic soon. "Wake up!" The hotel manager demanded off one of the fallen guards.

"Nghasir?" He offered, groggily raising his head and looking at manager. He had the sort of look someone who had been on an all-night drinking binge, which wasn't helped by the fact his body wasn't quite answering his commands and taking them more as polite suggestions, and so he had a conflict of expressions all at once.

"Why did you defend my hotel?" He demanded, stroking his long beard as he shot a glance at the warrior clad Star, who folded her arms under her chest and offered little more than a humph. She wasn't one for lying, usually, but she was good at letting her emotions just take control of the body.

"Weaaponss a...lert, seir." He muffled, before falling back to the lovely black that had cocooned him. There wasn't any pain in the black, after all, whereas here there was pain in his wrist, his chest, his head and more. It was all very inconvenient.

The manager nudged him with his boot, to no avail, before turning to Star, once again swelling with furious indignation.

"Well?" He barked, looking at her with aged eyes that showed more years than the lines in his face.

"Well?" She asked; her naivety and soft voice shining through her mask a little, though she managed to catch herself. She cleared her throat, remembering her role. "Well what?" She amended, more forcefully this time around.

"You are not usually meant to have weapons." He trailed off, though he could feel a trickle of doubt and discomfort worming its way in to his mind as he watched and waited. If she thought nothing of breaking weapons laws, then what other things could she...

"It's his hands." She said, with a sigh that she had practiced in the mirror. On the ship out she and Nigel had rehearsed their roles to ensure that they wouldn't be caught or spotted, taking to asking each other questions in order to make it seem less of a challenge to answer things they should know as the characters they now portrayed.

Again, it had been an absurdly boring trip.

It took them ten minutes to explain Blacktranian biology. While most men and women of Tamaran knew of the Blacktrinian menace that had stormed their beaches, burned down their homes, raped their wives and ate their children, their knowledge of their biology was reduced to how to kill them. The fact they needed the claws to protect their hands was something that rarely came up, and their cultural differences about carrying some sort of weapon on them at all times was also lost. Their two peoples had been warring for a hundred years, and neither one bothered to learn anything about the other. Even the reason for the conflict had been lost to the pages of history.

Two great empires, killing each other in the name of a reason that neither could remember. That was the failing of civilization.

Eventually the manager was shown the error of his ways, and as compensation and for their assistance in proving his security was flawed, they were granted a room upgrade for free; the Duchess Suite near the top of the hotel.

Nigel set their bags down in a rather hurried manner, rushing to the doors that lead to the balcony and to the others rooms. With each trip he ran and checked, double checked and triple checked for listening devices, potential spies and more. He was not as experienced as Noel at his paranoia, but was making a good, if naive, effort.

"My dear friend, please calm yourself." Kory asked, now out of sight of the others, in the tongue she had grown so used to; English. Her eyes alone implored the panic-stricken doctor to try and keep calm, but he could not.

More than once he slipped to his native language, trying to relax his usually serene nerves and once he did that there was no talking, no helping, just him stirring himself deeper into a pit of dread. He turned and said a few words to her, again in his own language, and Kory stepped forwards and grabbed at his shoulders.

Her emerald eyes, the eyes that could sink hundreds to their knees and thank-god to be alive, stared in to their dark counterparts so intently that she could see the slightly darker ring within his irises, where his pupils sat. After all the time she had known him, brave, fearless and a rock for others to depend on, he was back in space and it scared him. He was the boy again, the teenager they sent to war. He was the child that ran from the battlefield, scared of what he had seen and what he had told no other. He was the young man in the alleyway, having been attacked by two corrupted heroes who lashed out at Star because of fear. He was small, scared...

"I can help you, but you must trust me. This will be the first step." She spoke, her tone was akin to silk, but her words were forged in iron. There was a certainty that made sure you did not argue with it. "Do you understand?"

Nigel nodded, his breath was shallow now as he stared in to her eyes, eyes that had seen so much hate and destruction and still gleamed with the light of innocence and love. "Good." The Tamaran girl spoke, nodding to him.

And with that, Kory's hand reached up and cradled Nigel's face as she drew him into a firm, warm, kiss.


There was a slight break in the story as a red-faced Sophie clocked her boyfriend across the face.

The Titans started themselves, reacting but unsure how to respond Sophie's rage, and to her fist, which seemed to show some bruises on the knuckles, was clenched and shaking. Nigel now sported a rather large black eye, and as Blacktrinian blood is actually black and neither red nor blue, it just made it look as dark as the void of space.

Ryce's earlier murderous gleam had been replaced by imploring: "Sophie, PLEASE, I would beat him stupid too, but can't you just…lower it a touch?"

Beside her, Adam simply looked from one to the other, blinking.

"..So has no one ever bothered to explain Tamaranean anatomy to Soph, or…?" He started, but his words were overshadowed by Sophie, who hadn't heard either of them.

"O-oh! So THAT'S how it was, was it?!" Sophie stammered angrily, taking deep breaths through her nose as her lips fought to purse in to a frown or open and spill the vile her mind demanded of it. "While I'm stuck here, on earth, carrying YOUR baby, you're off in the stars gallivanting around and MAKING OUT with-"

"No, no! It wasn't like that!" Star came to Nigel's defence, slapping an ice-bag wrapped in a kitchen towel into his claws. "We promise you, Sophie! Neither of us would ever-"

"Could have sworn this happened before with Beastboy, back during the whole light city fiasco," Adam continued, ignored.

"Not at all, Star's lovely and all but I would never-" Nigel started, raising the bag to his face.

"Oh, LOVELY is she?! And what am I? Just alright?!" She screamed again as Raven's power wrap against her, with an extremely gentle touch meant to simply stop her. The empathy still winced when the larger woman took a few deep breaths and struggled against the restraint.

"And that time with Tim when she first crashed here…"

"I think the hormones are bleeding into your aggression centers, Soph." Noel commented, in a rather offhand way.

"I think you need to stop chimin' in your 'expertise' on the experiences of pregnant women," Ryce grumbled waspishly, before letting out a tired sigh: The light on her arm had gone red.

"Plus, there was that time Star wanted to learn Amishian, the language of the Amish, from me," Adam continued.

"…what?" Ryce said, snapping her eyes to him.

Sophie, still held in place by Raven's considerable efforts, mercifully derailed that conversation with her own snap. Raven found that it was extremely difficult to hold her with the level of delicacy one had to consider to restrain a mother-to-be.

"I don't believe this!"

"Yes, I agree with Ryce, very astute of you, Noel." Raven said dryly as she pulled Sophie back from lunging at Kory. "Find your centre, Sophie." the magic user instructed, her voice calm and level one in to her friend's ear. "This is mostly the Hormones causing chaos—not a word, Adam—at your expense. It's okay." She continued to talk in the level tone, as she slowly siphoned off the rage.

"...Okay. Okay..." Sophie agreed, closing her eyes and still taking in a few deep, angry breaths. The empath could feel the hate and betrayal that had built up in such a short amount of time, fuelled by hormones and Sophie's own insecurities.

"Sophie, really, use that brain of yours and think—would Kory and Nigel ever cheat on y-" Noel started, before Raven held up a hand.

"A little too much condescension, Noel Dear, your words are just hitting a wall." Raven said, somewhat tiredly, while she touched Sophie's back. Noel could almost feel a block of rage, one that had been stopping her from logic and reason, be absorbed in to Raven. Noel watched Sophie's face change, as if the rage and hormones had blocked the sink, and now it was free the cool feeling of calm was washing over her. Raven was a different story; however, as her eyes snapped open as she stood up, sharply and stormed from the room.

Nigel could swear he heard swear words from different realities. Even those without super hearing could still pick out the muffled yells of anger, and Gauntlet had even walked closer to the door to try and make out some of the words. Ryce and Adam seemed to follow him, perhaps looking to jot down the ones that relayed to them.

Noel had neither the time nor inclination to deal with any of that.

"…Pregnant moods are the worst moods; I do too much to that poor woman." The mortician sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes. "I think it overloaded her…I'll have to make it up to her later."

Over her shoulder the group heard Gauntlet counting the swearwords he had heard so far: Twenty-six and rising. Ryce, instead of stopping as Noel had assumed she would, stormed right past him, her face a mask of barely-there restraint. Everyone seemed to realize why this was at the same time, especially after Adam tried to follow after her.

"Do you need he-"

"Help by texting me when she shuts up…she's going to scare him," she sighed, disappearing through the door into the halls of the Tower.

Adam was left standing, looking less than pleased with the still swearing-Raven.

"…Sorry, Adam," Sophie winced.

The demon rolled his eyes and raised a brow at Robin. "Well?"

"…Ah," Tim started, getting the hint, "Soph—er, there's one fundamental thing you obviously don't know," he rested his arms on his knees as he spoke. "Kory learns languages via physical contact." He had slipped in to the same sort of pitch that Nigel often used, talking with people who were somewhat distressed or distrustful required a certain amount of tact that the doctor had in spades.

"...What?" The disbelief in the mortician's voice was next to apocalyptic, but she played along for the sake of sanity.

"I know, right?" Adam said as he walked past her, flopping on his seat.

"When she first arrived on earth, she kissed me without even knowing me. She learned our language from that; she then did the same with a Japanese boy, as well as a Mexican." He said, though his mood seemed to darken when he thought about her kissing random strangers or off-limit members of the group. The advantage he had was that he knew why and what was going on, though remembering her kissing the tall Swedish bikini model made up for some of that, his lizard brain treacherously thought at him.

"It is not the sort of thing you could make up." Kory said, trying to actually stay out of this part of the conversation. "If it was anything other than what it was, we might not have brought it up to you." She tried to appeal to logic, and for her troubles received a rather cold glare. Now that the fire of anger had been put out, all that was left was the frost.

"Now, Sophie, think about it." Noel started again, turning her attention away from Tim and Kory with some effort. "These two are two of the most loyal, devoted members of the team."

Beastboy was about to say something, but a nudge from Vic and a few whispered words from Tara basically told him to stay quiet and to let them have this for now. "Now put that image of them and stack it up to the idea of them CHEATING, with each other, against Tim and yourself. Do you think they could betray your trust in them? Does that make any sense at all given both of their histories?" He said, making sure to be clear as possible.

"If nothing else, having successfully pulled off the most elaborate cheating ruse in history by doing it while being literally secluded in space, why would they then be so ungodly stupid as to just casuallyreveal it to us while telling a story? Bragging rights?" Adam added, always the one to point out the more logical aspects of a story.

"...It does sound pretty stupid when your glands don't dump three gallons of hormones in your brain." She commented, sheepishly as she looked down to her knees, or at least what part of her knees she could see. "Mind if we continue in a bit? I think I need some time."

"Take your time, we'll refresh our drinks." Tim said, standing up and grabbing the kettle and heading to the kitchen. Sophie headed out, past Gauntlet and into the corridor where Raven was just coming off the boil.

Ten minutes passed, drinks were refreshed, fresh snacks were placed across the table and promptly grabbed at when the two women came back in to the room and sat down next to their respective partners.

"I'm...not sure if I'm sorry, Nigel." Sophie said honestly, looking a little sheepish and afraid. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that, even with all that was going on in my head, so I'm sorry for that."

He nodded at her, the black swelling having already started to look like a marked improvement.

"It happens, and we'll talk more about it later, and I can't say I wasn't hurt..." He took a deep breath, before exuding a broad, toothy, grin. "But I understand." She returned the expression, though with a side order of sheepishness as she sat back down.

"She just needed some meditation time." Raven nodded, while Noel nudged her in the side. They both, along with everyone else, turned towards the steps approaching the room.

"I hate you both and so does Zane," Ryce's voice chimed lightly as she emerged, her arms quite full.

Adam jumped to his feet instantly, a wide grin greeting her, or rather them Them.

Wide blue eyes, the same shade as her right one, blinked blearily at everyone from the folds of a soft-looking yellow blanket. The baby was small, a newborn of a month at most, and clearly had just woken up. A pudgy pink fist poked out from the swaddling to bat at both her shirt and the air as she carried him over to her awaiting significant other, who was positively fidgeting with the need to hold him.

"He jus' ate he night spit up on you," Ryce warned handing him over as they both settled back to their seats.

"Don't care," Met said, almost dismissively, beaming at the baby boy. When he purred at him in adoration, the goggling baby squeaked happily, attempting his own, clumsy, purring noises. It left little room to his parentage.

"Ryce…I'm so sorry I didn't mean to wake him up," Sophie cringed only to be waved off.

"S'fine…he wanted dinner anyway."

"We're playing the 'let's be fascinated by everything in the world' game anyway," Adam piped in, caressing the curious baby's cheek with a finger.

"Right…" Nigel said, grinning slightly at the father. "Anyway, where were we?" he asked, turning to Kory.

"I believe we were right about..." She started, trailing off into the story again.


Kory pulled away from the rather confused Blacktrinian, the taste of her lips still on his as he blinked for a moment. Kory's eyes remained closed, as if she was reading something off the inside of her eyelids. A faint smile crossed her lips, as she took a step away from Nigel, who raised a clawed hand to his own lips uncertainly.

"Well…That was…nice and all, but what the hell was it about?" Nigel said in his native tongue, and after a brief moment his companion smiled.

"I understood that." She said, speaking back in Blacktranian. His panic from before was seemingly derailed when the two alien Titans were brought in to a quick embrace, not that many would blame him. "How is my accent?" She asked, speaking his native words as if they were her own. The accent was spot-on; but he would have to see about what she'd do with the grammar.

"Very good, all things considered." He responded, still somewhat baffled. He bit his lower lip as his mind ran straight to Sophie and the fact that he just kissed a long-term friend, and a gorgeous one to boot. He would like to say that he was kissed, that he had no control or want to be there, but…He could have shoved her away, thrown her across the room or muffled some form of warning. He didn't. Guilt filled the back of his mind, and he just hoped that if Sophie ever heard the story then she'd be willing or able to forgive him not fighting.

It turned out to be a rather erroneous thought. Life's a bitch that way.

"You were panicking, and when you panic, I've noticed, you slip into your own language, my Friend Nigel." Kory spoke, taking a few steps away from him and sitting down upon the bed. An orange hand patted the soft material next to her, indicating she wanted him to sit down.

With his mind muddled, guilt-ridden and panic-strained, he followed her indication and sat with her. His eyes were focused on the floor, as if he was attempting to count the fibres in the traditional Tamaran flooring.

"I shouldn't have done that." He said, meekly, resting his claws in one another. A deep sigh echoed from his battered chest, as he continued to stare fixedly at any direction that was not Kory.

"I should have asked, I am sorry." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder in some attempt to placate him. "You were scared; I have never before seen such fear in you. It is…unnerving." She spoke, honestly, as her eyes conveyed every emotion that fought for dominance.

"I have something to be scared about, I guess." He spoke, in return, his deep voice sounding thick in the guttural language. In English she had never quite noticed it, but all his years as a Titan has caused the man to have a slightly broken voice. She was new to his language, and even she could tell his voice wasn't what it should have been. The scars on his chest, to his throat, even on his face all told of the damage that he had put himself through, told of the fearless nature of his pursuit of happiness. The crusade was the joke name for the level of determination Nigel showed to his job, to the dedication for his duty. He had been once sent for a psychiatric evaluation, all the Titans had, and what had been gleamed was that he might have a self-annihilation complex; from feelings of betrayal during the war, he is seeking to prove not only himself but his entire species wrong in some way and show that he is worthwhile, but it is not something that can be given.

And now he was scared. He had walked up to demi-gods and spat at them in the eye, he had faced down the horrors of the age and kept on getting up to come back for more. Other heroes were sometimes, jokingly, judged on the Scalpel Scale for how fearless, reckless or just plain suicidal someone might be. And yet now…

"You're scared about what might happen to Sophie is you get caught here." Kory hushed, looking down at the clawed hands, as she heard a clattering. His hands were shaking.

"If they catch me, if they…" He paused, squeezing his hands in to fists. Metal scraped against metal and almost squealed as they closed tighter than they were ever intended to be. "…I'll be killed; I'm a deserter, and that is a capital crime." He said that almost, almost, as if he were telling the time, it was only the slight shake in his voice that signaled the difference. "Just another day, I guess. I could be killed at any time on Earth. Look how many people have tried, after all."

"They never succeeded." Kory said, scooting closer to Nigel, resting her arm across his shoulders, almost protecting him from the rest of the world. "We're there to make sure that never happens."

"I know, and then…Then Sophie told me she was…" He ran a hand through his hair, scratching deep at the roots as he fumbled for words. "I know she'll be fine. She'll be looked after, and the child will also be protected, but if..."

"You'll meet your daughter." Star held him close, as her mind jumped ahead to his concern. "I promise you, and I promised Sophie my dear friend; you're going to be home for the birth." She spoke quietly, though her voice had steel behind it, a determination and resolve very few could actually manage. "You're going to be home and you will teach her to speak, teach her to walk and more. I give to you an oath that-"

"Kory, stop." Nigel turned to her, looking deep in to her eyes. "We're in space, near Blacktrinian territory, light years away from back up, I can't let you-"

"Nigel, you have no choice." She reached in to his clawed fingers and grabbed at the sharp edges with such a turn of speed Nigel couldn't open his hands away from her fast enough. The noise of a knife drawing across silk ran through the air as the Tamaran princess winced and raised a fist. Blood, a strange burgundy colour, dripped through her fingers. "You are familiar with the Oath of Hazzurn Ridge, are you not?"

Nigel nodded, soberly. Back during the war there was a skirmish over a cliff-ridge known as Hazzurn Ridge. The importance of such a spit of land was questionable; you could use it as a great place for artillery, or as a spy outpost that could be defended easily as attempting to clamber up the cliff face would have been met with quick retribution. The main reason the ridge needed to be taken, during the war, was that the other side owned it.

During a push on to the main planet of Tamaran, when the Blacktrinians were able to actually get their forces on the ground there, they had attempted to take the ridge with the command of a white-garbed soldier. Kory did not know his name. He was leading a squad of soldiers and engineers to set up a satellite uplink on the ridge that would allow them to call down a thunder from the skies in the form of orbital drop ships with a score of soldiers just waiting to cause havoc. This could be done all across the country they were in, and perhaps further if conditions were right.

Information about the operation, however, leaked out to the Tamaran Defence Force. A Tamaran commando known to many as Scar was tasked to hunt down this white-garbed soldier and stop him from setting up anything on the ridge. If possible they would have to destroy the ridge so that this could not be tried again and kill him. She was sent with a notable force of her own.

The battle was violent and lasted for days. Eventually a truce was called and the white garbed man and Scar stood together, their various forces having suffered heavily. He had taken a few wounds, but still stood proud before the commando and spoke with a commanding voice. The ridge is not as important as his men, he spoke, and he would relinquish the ridge if his soldiers could be spared. She demanded from him an oath of blood, so that he and his soldiers would not harm them once they had left the battlefield. He said he would gladly give it, but his hands were covered in metal and to draw blood was impossible. In a blink of an eye, she reached in to his hands and sliced her hand open on his sharp claws, drenching his hand with her blood.

With a fist raised, she declared that he had shed her blood, and they were honour-bound to each other. He would keep his word, and his men would be free to leave to their extraction point so long as they destroyed their equipment. In outrage, a member of the Tamaran Defence Force took his plasma weapon and tried to kill the white-garbed Blacktrinian, only for Scar to step up and beat him into unconsciousness, declaring that her word was her bond. The white-garbed man didn't raise a finger or even flinch; he could not cause trouble and was honour-bound not to.

This became known as the Oath of Hazzurn Ridge, and for the rest of the war it was used by the commanders of opposing forces to allow people to get back to their HQ safely. Tamaran commanders flew back to base with bandaged hands, and one claw of the Blacktrinian leaders would end up covered in red blood until they were back at home.

And now, some eighteen years later, Kory was replicating the actions of that day as she held up a fist full of blood. "You have shed my blood, and we are honour-bound to each other now." She spoke, her words were full of steel as she looked deep in to Nigel's eyes. "I am honour-bound to get you home, and you are honour-bound to protect me. We are bound thus; and nothing can stop that."

"Our word is our bond." Nigel finished, looking from his blood covered hand and to the torn fist of the Tamaran girl. "Damn it to the River, Kory! I wish you hadn't done that." He stood from the bed and took a few steps forward, looking at the stain in his hand.

"But I did, and I know you!" She shouted, standing up and forcing him around to look at her, her bloodied fist still clenched tight, more to try and stem the flow of blood than anything else. "You will honour this! And you know that I will do too! We are a family; cast out by our own we found solace in the arms of aliens and the people of another world, and I will get you to our home!"

"...You know how far this goes?" He asked, holding up the bloodied hand to her. She nodded, gravely.

"All the way to Earth." She finished a sentence that hadn't been started, but they both knew what it could mean. They both knew he would have done everything he can to protect her, but this would put the steel back in his spine, to allow him to push himself all the way, to do everything it took to get back.

And as a reassurance, that she would do that too. She would have done anyway, and he would have fought the devil himself to get home to Sophie, but sometimes you need a visual aid.

She winced and slowly opened her hand. "Could you, er..."

With a bandaged and stitched hand, and a hearty meal of Glorp-worms to fortify the body against the blood loss, the aliens then retired. Of course, Nigel was the servant so he took the servant's room just off the main one and Kory had the glorious regency scale bed to herself. If they had been more criminally-inclined, they'd have both considered stealing the bed, but while everyone steals a little something from hotels, they both believed a bed might be noticed.

They would have to wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Continued in Chapter 3…