- Ava -

Ava took a sip of her drink, just managing to not grimace at the bitter flavor. But she was getting better at being an ambassador, and the vergu concoction was a traditional beverage at Acerex funerals. It started out tasting very bitter, then became extremely sweet by the end. It was symbolic, something about the difficulty of early life and the final reward of an honorable death. Most of that was lost on her, but she knew the Acerex appreciated it when Earthlings took part in their various ceremonies.

“It's an acquired taste,” Harper said straight into her thoughts, and the queen of Acerex did not hide her grimace as she put the glass down on the table. “And I kind of hope I never acquire it.”

“No chance,” Lily said. “Some things are just too nasty.” She turned her head to check on little Zekax'ton, who had just learned to walk and was making his way aimlessly among the many warriors at the funeral reception on his stubby legs. The smooth floors of the spaceship Friendship was a good place to practice his new skills.

“That's right,” Charlotte agreed and eyed the dirty brown brew suspiciously. “But apart from this, I have to say I prefer these funerals to Earth ones.”

The room in the spaceship was pretty big, but there were so many guests that it was still quite crowded. The warriors were as loud and cheerful as ever, and children were running around, playing noisily.

“It's more like a celebration of life than a solemn marking of someone passing,” Ava said and got herself another drink, less brown and more green. “And that should be the point of these things.”

In the middle of the room was a small table with a few items on it, most prominently a long sword with a blade that was almost black with age and usage. It had belonged to the dead warrior, and one of the events of the funeral was to present it to the warrior would inherit it. If the dead man had a son, then it would be passed down to him. But since the shortage of women meant that very few Acerex every procreated, it was usually passed to a younger, promising warrior. It was a great honor to take over a sword from a dead warrior, and Groti'ax had been both famous and revered for his skills and accomplishments.

“It absolutely should,” Charlotte agreed and adjusted Elerea Blaze on her lap. “They have the right idea.”

“She's very calm,” Ava said and nodded to Charlotte and Cori'ax's little daughter. The infant was sound asleep, even in the din of loud warriors slapping backs and laughing uproariously all around her. 

“Yeah,” Charlotte said and smiled at the little face with the tightly scrunched-up eyes. “I guess after the way she was born, on the Fire Planet, in the worst thunderstorm you could imagine, attacked by dragons, she's going to be hard to shake.”

The room suddenly went quiet, and Ava looked up. Then she froze. At the other end of the room, a warrior had just entered, and everyone was looking at him.

Ava understood why. He was huge, larger than most of the warriors, who were all pretty gigantic to start with. Like most of them, he wore only a pair of leathery pants, so that the intricate fire tattoo on his upper body was visible. He had long, dirty-blond hair and several days' worth of stubble on his alien chin. He was outrageously muscular and carried himself with such confidence that even in this room full of warriors, he stood out.

But the thing about him that made the strongest impression on her was the look on his face. While the other warriors were mostly cheerful, this one looked furious, and his eyes shot green fire.

He looked around the breathlessly silent room, as if searching for someone. Then his eyes briefly fell on Ava, before he did a double take and focused on her. Ava felt the breath freeze in her chest from the intensity of his gaze, and for a split second the rest of the people in the room faded to insignificance.

The warrior's face changed then, and the anger gave way as his jaw seemed to drop and his brow furrowed.

Then the moment was broken as King Vrax'ton walked over to the newly arrived man and clasped his hand on one huge shoulder.

“Captain Xark'ion,” the king of Acerex said loudly. “You are well met, warrior. Our friend is with the Spirits now. Take your glass of vergu and honor him.”

Xark'ion stood stiffly for a moment, then accepted the glass the king was holding out to him. “Indeed he's with the Spirits. But too soon, too soon. I would be there in his place.”

The glassware in the room seemed to tremble with his deep voice, and there was such profound emotion in his words that Ava felt tears spring unbidden to her eyes. This huge, powerful warrior genuinely grieved over his dead friend, very deeply. The sense of grief wouldn't have been stronger if he had broken down in tears. Even the translator device disguised as a jewelry in her ear couldn't strip that meaning from the alien language.

“Your friendship with Groti'ax is well known,” Vrax'ton said. “But wish not death upon yourself. The Spirits wanted Groti'ax. Not yet Xark'ion. Your time will come, warrior. As it will for all of us.”

“He must be avenged,” Xark'ion said, and the fury was back in his face. “He must.” His voice cracked at the last word, and it sent an arrow of sympathy to Ava's heart.

“And he shall be,” Vrax'ton said and led the large warrior further into the room, where other warriors came up and formed a large and noisy huddle.

The room got loud again as conversations restarted, and Ava took a sip of her new drink with a hand that was trembling, just a little. That one moment when she met that warrior's eyes ... she couldn't remember having felt that before. Certainly not with any Acerex male. For some reason, butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach now.

Little Zekax'ton had come back to his mother, and Lily stroked his dark hair. “That has to be the guy who almost killed himself today, right?”

“Right,” Charlotte agreed. “It's not often I see them react like that to someone dying. They see others die all the time in their wars. It hardens them. But sometimes you get someone like this.”

“Xark'ion, huh?” Harper mused. “I've heard that name before. He has to be one of the elite warriors. If he was that close to Groti'ax, I mean. They've probably fought together in endless battles and saved each other's lives too many times to count. Can't blame him for taking it hard.”

Charlotte glanced over at the huddle around Xark'ion. “He's a quite a specimen, though. I mean, if you like them big and strong and not afraid of their emotions. Did I see him give you an extra little glance there, Ava?”

“Maybe he's cross eyed,” Ava suggested.

Harper stretched and cupped her belly with one hand again. “There was something there, definitely. It reminded me of the way Vrax'ton looked at me the first time. Something about you interests him. Heck, it's none of my business. I'm all in favor of your firefighter plan, actually.”

“So,” Charlotte said and hoisted Elerea Blaze higher up. “What are we planning to do about the enemy that's behind every problem the Acerex have?”

Ava tore her eyes from Xark'ion's broad back and stroked a lock of hair behind one ear. “We'll talk to them. After we track them down. They're elusive. As far as I can tell, the Acerex have never seen them and aren't really aware of them. Until now, I guess.”

Lily gave her son a cookie. “Do we know why they hate the Acerex so much?” 

“No. That's one of the first things I'll ask them.”

“You're going yourself?” Harper asked, not looking up.

Ava sighed. It was one of the things she had done some agonizing over. “I think I probably should. Nobody knows these things like I do. Earth really wants me to. And you know, whatever I can do to help Earth not become a war-torn, beleaguered world like Acerex, I will. On the other hand ...”

“On the other hand, you've been running yourself ragged these past couple of years,” Charlotte said. “You've done your part and then some. Hell, after we came back alive from the Fire Planet, we had all done our parts and then some. This thing sounds fucking dangerous. I've seen more battles with aliens than any of you, and if there's a single gang of aliens behind all those, then I say send a serious Earth war fleet right into their faces and see how they deal with hyperlasers and tungsten megaprojectiles, as opposed to sword-wielding warriors. Talk? To the worst enemy the Acerex have? You'd need some serious force behind it.”

Ava took another sip of her drink. “See, I don't think so. The first time we meet any alien species, I think we should come at them with open arms. Then, if they're not receptive to that, then do it again, differently. Let them know for a fact that Earth is no threat to them. That's how we've been able to be received so well by all the other alien species. We don't come at them with guns first, but with friendship. Always. Especially with these ones. Hey, they haven't hurt us. I mean Earth. We have no idea why they do what they do. There could be a good reason for it.”

Ava could hear that her passion was coming through, and that she was talking more fiery than she had intended. But this she really believed.

Charlotte shook her head. “Such a bad idea. Sure, reach out a hand first. But keep a huge gun in the other one, and make sure they see it. If the Kunuru are all that you've said, then we should not take any chances. If they're behind all the Acerex suffering, the universe is better off without them, if you ask me.”

Ava could feel her station manager reflexes kick in. She was always good at resolving conflicts among her subordinates, but she was usually not part of it. And she disagreed profoundly with Charlotte. “That's the best recipe for exactly the situation the Acerex are in. Let's talk to the Kunuru, learn what makes them tick, talk to them on their own terms. We might be able to win them over as our friends and get them to stop attacking our Acerex friends. Without a shot being fired. That's my goal, anyway. And that's why I'm going.”

The discussion had gotten her more secure in her decision. Charlotte's opinion was pretty widespread. If someone other than Ava were to seek out the Kunuru and talk to them, they would probably use at least the barely veiled threat of force. Or they'd just blatantly send warships into the territory of an unknown alien species. She knew there were some high up in Space Expansion who wanted just that. But she had been able to talk them into trying the diplomacy angle first.

Princess Anabel'ia trundled over to Harper and whined about some insignificant booboo on her knee.

Harper lifted her daughter up onto her lap. “Pretty heavy responsibility they've heaped on Auntie Ava,” she said softly.

“Yeah. Fate of mankind stuff,” Ava said, trying to keep her voice light. “Sure, I know it's a critical mission. But I also think it will work. Talking to aliens is not like diplomacy on Earth. We know how other humans think. With the Kunuru, we really should find that out first.”

Elerea Blaze was stirring and her eyes were opening into narrow slits, and Charlotte started gently rocking her daughter. “Please tell me you're not going alone, at least. Bring a heap of bodyguards.

“We'll see. I don't know even know where to find them yet. Maybe when-”

A shadow fell between them and Ava looked up, straight into green eyes that stared at her with laser intensity from up close.

“Oh my stars ...”

“Lady,” Xark'ion said, and again the glasses on the table sang in resonance with his bass tones. “You caught my attention from across the room. Just when I arrived I spotted you. And I'm afraid my attention made you ill at ease. It has been known to happen. To aliens.”

There were suddenly two large warriors beside Harper. They had smiles on their faces, but their eyes were hard and their hands were on the hilts of their swords. The royal bodyguards were taking no chances with this man.

“I don't doubt it,” Ava said when she had recovered enough to respond with the first thing that came to mind.

“That is well,” the warrior continued. “For it is true. And usually when it happens, I am in no position to apologize for my behavior. Because the alien in question is always dead. But now it seems that I am able to. And I want to take advantage of the opportunity, refreshing and new as it is to me. And so: Lady, please forgive a simple warrior for startling you.”

Xark'ion seemed completely sincere, but Ava sensed that there was also a degree of amusement in his words. She could work with that.

“No harm done, warrior. Unless it was I who harmed you by my no doubt shocking presence?”

He frowned. “Perhaps. Perhaps it was I who was the most gravely injured at the sight of you. Indeed I was astounded to see a woman of your appearance at the funeral of Warrior Groti'ax.”

Only Ava's recent experience with all kinds of aliens had given her the strength to not avert her eyes. “You feel it inappropriate for women to attend the funerals of mighty warriors?”

“I fear I feel it only too appropriate. Now it is my opinion that every funeral must have glorious alien women in attendance. Is that perchance the custom among your kind?”

Sure, why not. “It is.”

“Ah. And the mightier the warrior, the more splendorous the woman, no doubt. By that measure, Groti'ax was the mightiest warrior there has ever been, if ladies such as you are to be found here. It is wrong to envy the dead. But now I must confess to feel some jealousy of him, knowing that my own funeral will be devoid of any such honor.”

It was the first time an Acerex male had given her any attention outside of their duties, and Ava wanted to make the most of it. “Are you sure it will be? Many things can happen before then. Perhaps there will be an entire squad of alien females bemoaning the end of ... what is your name, warrior?”

She knew, but she also felt that he should introduce himself.

“I am Xark'ion,” he said, very gravely.

“And I am Ava.”

He bowed his head slightly. “Somehow your name makes you that much more alluring, Ava.”

It had been years since she'd had any male this visibly attracted to her, and the sensation was intoxicating. She had never seen a more attractive Acerex than this. Now that he was much closer, she noticed his dry, spicy scent, alien and new.

Everyone in the room was looking at them, but it obviously didn't bother him at all.

A part of her wanted to reach out and touch the fire tattoo on his scarred torso. “You find me alluring, warrior?”

He ran his gaze up and down her, pausing slightly at her ample chest before again piercing her with his eyes. “I do, alien woman.”

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Ava suddenly felt hard tingles down below. This felt a lot like an interesting chance. It wasn't like she had been breathlessly waiting to go to bed with an Acerex man, but she had been surrounded by them for months, and their sheer manliness made them hard to ignore. What would it be like? With an alien? With ... this alien?

Ava was brought back to reality by Harper clearing her voice. “We witnessed your grief earlier, Warrior Xark'ion. For a moment we feared you would plummet to your own death. It was commented that such displays are unusual in our army.”

“My queen. They are. But then, Groti'ax was an unusual warrior. The bravest of the brave, the noblest of us all. His death was the worst thing to happen in my life. I fear my sorrow overpowered me. And yet, I would do it again in the same way. For it came from deep in me. Was it then a dishonorable act, my queen?”

There was a challenge in his tone and words, and now his laser eyes were focused on Harper. He towered over the table, and the bodyguards weren't smiling anymore.

Harper herself was visibly taken aback for a second before she collected herself. “I see no dishonor in grieving over a fallen comrade, warrior. We all have our ways of facing these emotions. I hear you are chosen to receive Groti'ax's sword. It is a great honor.”

“It is, my queen. I'm not worthy of it. But I shall wield it to the best of my feeble abilities. For Acerex. For our king. And our queen and our princess.”

Harper nodded regally, which Ava reflected was quite a feat while pregnant, sitting down and stroking a toddler's head. “I know you shall, warrior. We count on it.”

Another warrior came up and placed a massive arm around Xark'ion's equally massive neck. “The ceremony, Captain Xark'ion.”

Xark'ion nodded to Harper. “My queen.”

Then he turned to Ava, and once more she felt the breath go out of her lungs from having him so close. “My Ava.” A smile played at the corner of his mouth. Then he turned around and followed his friend.

“Some of these guys are a little too cocky,” Charlotte said into the stunned silence at the table. “'My Ava', huh? Not the least bit presumptuous.”

“Just a little,” Ava said and took a deep breath, watching Xark'ion's impossibly broad back as he walked across the floor. The pure presence of that guy ... “He's a warrior who just lost his best friend. I'd say he's allowed to say some crazy things. Protocol isn't that strict at funerals, right, Harper?”

“Right. He did nothing that I'd object to. But still I'm glad Vrax'ton didn't hear all that. He's a little less tolerant.”

Lily scratched her neck. “Oh, I don't know. I've never seen a warrior this obviously emotional. They're usually so damn stoic about everything, especially injury and death. No, that's not just garden variety sadness. That guy is fucking shattered.”

Charlotte wrapped the pink fabric closer around Elerea Blaze and stood up. “And nobody can blame him for that. Well, I think that's all the funereal stuff this little thing can handle. When she's hungry, she makes sure everybody knows it. Including the dead.”

Lily stroked Zekax'ton's hair. “Yeah, I think this future mighty warrior has had enough too. But they've all had a good first funeral. Especially Elerea. Sleeping through it is always the best strategy.”

“If you can get away with it,” Ava added and stood up. “I think that window closes around, what? Age twenty?”

“But then it returns at seventy,” Harper countered and adjusted Princess Anabel'ia's dress. “Okay, you about ready to go, sweetie?”

They all left the room together. Just before going through the door, Ava looked over her shoulder. Xark'ion was in the middle of the assembled warriors, and in his hand was Groti'ax's old, black sword. There was no mirth in his eyes anymore, but there was moisture on his cheeks. Ava had no trouble seeing that, because he was looking straight at her.

The butterflies did somersaults in her stomach again. “Calm down, girl,” she told herself. “He's hot, but he's also totally wrong for you.”

And I am even more wrong for him.