Often when it was taught it was only to children who were born with some unfortunate sickness of the mind or body, or a young boy or girl that suffered an injury too grievous to fully recover from. In these rare occasions it was expected, even desired for alien educators to be utilized so long as they where from worlds that had a trusted relationship with Tamaran. It was an unfortunate risk to the children, but a necessary one for those who lived normally as a civilian on their world. Among the nobility however, this risk was not acceptable.
It was already a frightfully common experience for their kind to be targeted as pleasure slaves, men and women often being stolen from anyplace outside of their planet, and anytime they may let their guard down. For the very rich, or very powerful this risk was tenfold. A child could be ransomed back to their parents, or sold to one of the more cruel collectors throughout the universe. One who could claim they had stolen the future of Tamaran's leadership right out from under them. It was this tragic truth that led Hallon and his colleagues down the path they had walked. Every family of importance had at least one private teacher, who educated their children in the way of the warrior, in the necessity of proper math, and in the art of politics alongside any number of other skills they deem necessary. If the worst came to pass with these young ones, and they could not learn as the average child could, there would be little issue.
Hallon could gladly say he had not had the honor of teaching a child so harmed by nature they could not learn as the rest of their species could, but he understood well the difficulty other races had with learning a language foreign to them. He understood the nature and connection language had to the culture of any species, and that language was a window into the nature of the beings who spoke it. The Changralynians, for example, were often very difficult for other species to translate. Usually they could only rely on a computer or a robot to adhere to the task for them. It was the pacifistic and unconfrontational nature of their species, their "harmony of stone" that made it so difficult. Most concepts in many cultures only roughly translated the exact meaning of what they said.
By that same vein Tamaranean was confrontational and direct, but rarely insulting or cruel unless the speaker was deliberately trying to do so.
It was for these reasons that Hallon was selected to teach this alien, this Arhann, the language of their people. He could watch the being as he learned, he could understand the background he came from. He had been pleased when Sornand'r convinced the alien to allow him to grasp his arm for several minutes, the contact was less effective than lip to lip, but much less likely to raise any issues from the foreigner. Few were as comfortable with touch as they where. His excitement at learning knew langauges, his readiness to follow his lords command faded within moments of learning what he did, the teacher nearly cringing away from the being.
The alien knew several languages, each unique but ultimately not special in the face of the hundreds he had learned in his two centuries of life. It was the one that Arhann claimed was his own that frightened him. It spoke of warrior culture, but one far, far different than his own. It spoke of cold indifference to life, a belief that the strong could and should crush the weak. There were no less than 38 uses of the term "conquer". 15 for slaughter. 200 ways to say "kill beautifully" that each sounded so completely different than the last that Hallon was certain they had been lifted from conquered peoples.
If he knew nothing else, he would say that was enough to treat the invader cautiously.
Then he began to learn.
Hallon had an understanding of how quickly any being had any right to learn. Arhann never asked the same question twice, never needed more than a single clarification on the meaning of a word, never asked for aid as he went through the alphabet. In four hours he went through three years of content, and as his understanding grew, so did the rate at which he learned. It was like he was a computer. No, it was like he was a sentient computer. He could extrapolate the information he was given to guess at things he hadn't been taught.
By the next day he was fully conversant in written and spoken Tamaranean. The day after that he had a detailed understanding of the planets history and culture. On the third evening he began to investigate the rest of the system, his eyes pouring through their data streams as they went over what was known about every planet in Vega just as quickly as they came. It was only then that Hallon understood.
Arhann had to leave immediately, either by his own will, or as a corpse. Hallon watched with growing horror as the invader leaned forward, face shadowed by blue light.
The Vega system. A star-system I was not familiar with, that by all rights shouldn't exist. A departure from everything I knew to be sound and reasonable. I had been right. The robots technology had sent me farther than I could possibly imagine. A universe entirely separate from my own.
The only other explanation was some kind of magic, or induced hallucination. I was tempted to assume it was such, but there would be no reason to do such a thing. I was never important enough to merit such an act.
I never gave away my suspicions to the natives, beyond a single comment I gave them no hint I was anything more than an alien they simply had never seen. Something commonplace. The reaches of space where vast even in the modern era, and new worlds and species discovered everyday. I learned their language, I conducted my own investigation through the information that could be found on their computers.
The last remaining investigation I could do now to further confirm was fly to earth myself and see if it was true. Something that struck me as desperate and unnecessary. That was not the earth my father had commanded me and mine to conquer, or burn. It's value was determined largely by it's inhabitants. and while such a people where valuable indeed, if earth was anything like it's counterpart I couldn't expect to conquer it directly.
I was alone, and without support. If I wasn't killed on sight I would have to compromise my ideals to infiltrate, and going off of the disgrace that was the blood of Argall what that would produce would be no Viltrumite empire. Further investigation told me I would have to stay in proximity to the red dwarf around this system. Vega was apparently a notorious den of criminals and apparent wrongdoers. A place of war and division stretching back millennia. A state of affairs that was... preferable to a united whole to say the least.
Outside the system a universally sized police force guarded some ideal of order and peace. To enforce this they wielded weaponry of such power it allowed small groups or even single individuals to guard incredible swathes of space, even if I assumed it was only towards planetary threats of some scale.
Perhaps if I were to leave I could kill one or attempt to infiltrate another world as a protector. Either way such a thing would be noticed at some point. If they had any kind of real strength a coordinated response would be either my end or my imprisonment. Similar threats were prominent.
I was absent my people. Absent my father's guidance for the first time in the whole of my life. I sighed, leaning back in my chair. As if he had ever guided me as a son and not a soldier. He never even knew my name. Few of us ever had the privilege of his favor. I closed my eyes. Rage whispered to me.
"I accept your challenge, father." Silence met my answer, but the words pushed me to action. My eyes opened.
I needed immediate and tangible results. The empire must survive. Thanks to No'lan and his son what was left was either spiritually or biologically compromised. One was an abomination, the other had been an unfortunate and inevitable truth long before my birth, one that the my brothers and sisters presence had only worsened. To keep the mind and soul of the old empire alive I needed position and power. Infiltration was too slow. This would be done in the old way.
I looked over a star map of the Vega system. The Citadelian Empire was the dominant force here, the primary species' controlling it composed of clones and slavers. Physically mediocre but technologically advanced enough to be handled with caution. Most planets surrounding the local star belonged to them, but the exceptions almost all railed against them, and resistance groups likely cropped up in every corner of every planet they could.
It would be years before they took full control, and rebel cells had a tendency of needling the side of any empire, regardless of strength. One with such a high population of slaves doubly so. Any Viltrumite historian could say that was truth.
A strategy was needed. Something adaptable. I focused on a particular planet, my eyes reading again over it's history and inhabitants for the third time, my memory told me I had missed nothing, but I needed to be absolutely certain. If I was right? It would do.
I stood up, my movement quickly catching the attention of the other inhabitants of the room. The two had been whispering to one another in quiet debate about what needed to be done with me. I let them think I couldn't hear.
"Is this database all the information you have on the Vega system?" The look the two of them shared told me all I needed to know. "Take me to where it is. Now." Stormfire was conflicted, the educator was not.
"We do not give away military secrets to those who do not belong on Tamaran." His tone was hard, and inspite of the fear I knew he felt of me there was no hesitation in him. Perhaps because of it.
I grinned. Hallon was a good soldier. I could respect that if nothing else. I thought about killing him, reducing him to a spray of entrails as an example. I looked over to Sornand'r. I don't much like breaking my word. Relaxing, I began to speak.
"Meaning I'll have to take it up with her father. Fine." Ignoring their protests, I took to the air, flying in the direction I knew the lord of the house to reside. I didn't bother to wait for them as they chased after me, pushing through the halls at a brisk pace. I had to see if I missed anything. If things were really as the database implied. The girl knew where I was headed, and heavy ordinance wouldn't be able to target me inside the home of an important member of the leadership. She would arrive less than a minute after I would anyway.
I had visited her fathers private meeting hall in the past. When I learned Tamaranean he was eager to see me gone, see his daughter released. At the time I had elected to stay, to learn before I braved space once again. It was a decision I'm glad I made, he didn't share that opinion.
When I traveled through that door the second time things were different than the first. The restrained anger that seemed to cloud the room, the usual smell of pheromones telling me he was furious and trying his damnedest to hide it where mysteriously absent this time around. Three individuals I didn't recognize waited for me there. One sat at a long table in the center of the room. The other the Highlord had given up his seat at a raised throne on the other end of the room for a similar looking but very different Tamaranean. Stormfire's father, Sranass, looked to me with a neutral expression on his face. Half a hundred weapons pointed themselves in my direction immediately. He gestured to the man sitting across the table from him.
"Ah, my guest has arrived. Allow me to introduce you to king Decnand'r, my cousin and highest authority on this side of the planet. He was kind enough to bring high-king Myand'r along for our negotiations, the only one with more authority than that." The bearded male sitting on the throne looked to me with a searching gaze, his expression all but impossible to tell behind the red of his facial hair.
"We were planning to discuss your immediate departure from this planet." A door closed behind me. I rose a brow, my eyes traveling to a native garbed in wear I had yet to see. He hadn't been introduced but he tensed in the same way the guards where.
There was curiosity in my tone as I spoke.
"I was thinking the same thing."