The Novai I had seen at the Pentaba camp were alarming because of their differences from what they had originally looked like when they first came down to colonize, but I had since imprinted the memory of their scale patches, red eyes and sprouting wings into my mind. When I watched the Novai Vi’den introduced enter the Forum chamber, however, I was struck dumb with shock at their appearance. It was ironic, really, because they looked exactly as the Novain colonists had looked prior to the sun-sickness, but I had grown used to the transformation and put their prior appearance out of mind. These Novai, three of them, were every bit the prior appearance, and it was as disarming a vision as it had been from the first day they had come down to Albaterra.

Death-white faces nearly glowed through the dim light of the chamber, while sheets of long black hair were hardly visible save for the catches of torchlight on the strands. Deep, skin-covered divots covered what I knew to be their eyes beneath, and thick ridges individual to each Novai decorated their faces across their foreheads, cheeks, and jaws. The only hint of color on their ghostly bodies was the brilliantly crimson hue of their lips. They were relatively tall, at least by A’li-uud standard as they stood in the spectrum of our heights, but they were sinewy and lithe in comparison to our natural bulk. I had often heard comparisons of them made to nightmares, and this display of the terrifying eyeless faces and sickeningly ghoulish skin brought every justification to such a comparison.

One Novai, in particular, led the other two, who flanked him on either side. I recognized him easily despite his unnerving appearance. He was Captain Arguute Hett, the Novai I had journeyed into space to meet with months before at the height of the sun-sickness epidemic. While his colonists were on our planet ailing, Captain Hett and the rest of the Novai were residing aboard their gigantic mothership just outside the Albaterran atmosphere. The sun-sickness had not affected them as they were confined to space-life without regular sun exposure like those who had taken up residence in Pentaba. I had been sent to captain a mission to tell Hett about the state of his colonists and find out if he had any knowledge that could help us solve the diseased puzzle. He had been intimidating in his own right, but I remembered him to be accommodating and pleasant.

The captain and his henchmen stepped into the center of our circle. The very center of the chamber hosted a broad stone pit used for large fires during Forum, but it was covered with a sturdy platform when there were guests to be had, and it was here the Novai took their places. The placement of my chair allowed me a view of their backs and left sides as they faced Vi’den. I eyed their clothing, brown tunics of unknown fabric and fitted pants to match, and then my attention was drawn back to the matter at hand.

“We are pleased to welcome you to P’otes-tat Ulti, Captain Hett,” Vi’den said with an inclination of his head. He spoke in the screeching, ear-piercing language of the Novai, and it took me a breath to reacquaint myself with the dialect and clear the ringing from my ears. As A’li-uud were capable of speaking any language they heard, I was able to understand him, but I was still very alert to the awful sounds required to speak Novain. It did not escape my notice how differently the language sounded speaking to these Novai versus the colonized Novai, however. Evidently, the physical transformation the colonists had undergone had also mutated their vocals, for I distinctly recalled the deeper tones Sevani used when the Council was summoned to Pentaba for an update.

“Thank you,” Hett replied. He did not incline his head, but the gesture was one of A’li-uud custom, and therefore it was not a sign of disrespect when he failed to do so. “We appreciate your being so accommodating to us with such short notice.”

“The Council is here to help.” Vi’den spread his arms outward in a sweeping gesture, as if to demonstrate the openness of the Council to the whims of the Novai. “On that note, what can we do for you today?”

“I have come to discuss our arrangement.”

Eyes around the circle of Elders darted from one to the other. I saw wariness, curiosity, and blatant indignation being passed around from A’li-uud to A’li-uud. Only Vi’den remained unperturbed, his expression as stoic and tranquil as ever.

“Certainly. Is there a problem?” he inquired with interest.

“We are grateful for the opportunity you have presented our race,” Hett said, turning slightly as he spoke to look not only at Vi’den but at the neighboring Elders. “I can assure you, it has been a long time since we were able to call a place home for an extended period of time. Unfortunately, we have reached a crossroads.”

Vi’den continued to look at Hett without a flinch in his gaze, but I personally felt a prickling of suspicion. I had been one of the many A’li-uud who had opposed the idea of the Novai settling a colony on Albaterra, even if only on a trial basis, because their history was riddled with bloodshed and conflict. Thankfully, we had not endured the genocide or dictatorships they had previously wrought upon the unsuspecting citizens of planets across which they happened, but we had certainly endured our fair share of misfortune since their arrival. Individual attacks on Pentaban warriors, an attack on a human Pentaban colonist, and then the sun-sickness had been far more than we had ever anticipated handling upon establishing the Novai camp. To think Hett had come to make additional demands when his people had already caused us such grief—despite the grief being significantly less than any they had caused to other races—made my blood boil.

“As you know, we only sent down about a hundred to analyze the compatibility of our race with your planet, as well as our two races living side-by-side,” Hett went on.

“Three races.” This interjection came from Rex. He was leaning forward in his chair just as he had been during my confrontation with Ma’ris, but the expression of amusement was no longer present. Instead, he looked very serious and slightly offended. I assumed it was due to his being married to a human, and I learned I was correct in my assumption as he added, “Humans are permanent residents of Albaterra now.”

“Yes, of course,” Hett acknowledged as he rotated around to look at Rex. This time, he did incline his head, though it was less a show of respect and more an indication of understanding. “Three races.”

Vi’den cleared his throat and sent a stern look in Rex’s direction for the interruption before saying, “Please continue, Captain Hett.”

Hett resumed facing his original direction. The henchmen on either side of him were unnaturally immobile; not even a finger twitched. They stood rigidly with their feet shoulder-width apart, and their arms loosely crossed over their chests as if prepared to launch themselves at an attacker at any given moment. Even when Hett clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, they did not sway or look at him.

“The remaining numbers of our kind have been space-bound for the past year,” he proceeded, acting as though there had never been an interruption. “We have technically been space-bound for much longer than a year, many centuries in fact, but there have always been breaks throughout our travels in which we would take up residence on sentient planets for a spell.”

“We have heard tell of your spells,” muttered Dane.

Whether Hett heard him or not, I did not know, but he failed to recognize the comment. “Those who have lived on Albaterra for this year have thrived, and—”

“Most have perished, actually.” This time, it was Sevani who cut the captain off. I slid my gaze to him, noting the way his teal skin shimmered by the flickers of flame from the lit torch nearest him. He was watching Hett carefully, scrutinizing him. “The sun-sickness was a peril unmatched by fortitude. Your colonists have dwindled to approximately a quarter of their initial count.”

“The sun-sickness is an affliction every Novai must suffer if we hope to settle permanently,” Hett responded coolly. “Perhaps I ought to amend my statement. Those who have lived on Albaterra for this year and survived the sun-sickness have thrived. I believe they will continue to do so, as Albaterra seems to be conducive to our means of living. Those of us who have been confined to our ship for this year, however, are reaching our end.”

Vi’den straightened in his seat, and I saw concern flit across his wizened features. “You are ill?” he asked with mild alarm.

“No, though your concern is not unappreciated.” Hett bowed a fraction in gratitude. “Our supplies are dwindling. We do not have much time left before we will be forced to seek out resources to sustain ourselves. This is why I have come. The length of the trial colonization was to be your decision, but we have reached the point when a decision must be made. Either my colonists have satisfied your wonderments about our compatibility with you and your planet, and you will permit the rest of us to take up residence here, or we must move on to survive.”