Touchstone 1 - Stray

shoulder knocked me into the table and then he really was a blur.
    Ruuel rolled with the blow to his face, not fast enough to avoid it altogether. Nor the kick to his stomach, the smash to his knee. And yet the second bout ended the same way, with Kajal sailing through the air and this time slamming hard into the ground in front of the tables. Ruuel walked over to him, and it was very easy to remember that the Setari were trained killers as he stood looking down at Kajal, face haughty as hell. But all he said was: “Infirmary,” and walked off that way himself, limping.
    I don’t know what the fall-out from that’s going to be. It’s not like the greensuits came and marched Kajal away. Does aether effect count as enough of an excuse? I decided not to mention the really nice bruise on my arm where Kajal pushed me into the table, and this morning everyone was acting as if nothing had happened.
    I’m just glad to be heading back to Tare. Eighth Squad have been left behind as guards, taking it in pairs since there’s been no sign of any Ionoth attacking the settlement. They think the Ddura is ‘based’ there and thus keeps it far clearer than the rest of the planet. I’m listening to the faint change in the hum of the ship as we prepare for take-off and trying not to be too obvious in watching Third and Fourth Squad in their pods.
    Ruuel has the best black eye.
    Out of the box
    We had a side-mission before we returned through the rift gate. I didn’t find that out until we were on the way there and Taarel started the mission briefing. We were going to look over the second of the towns with ‘circle roofs’ which the satellite had found. I was assigned to Fourth Squad, who were going despite Ruuel’s slight limp. Sefen from Third toted a drone which floated along behind him like a kite.
    This town was on a river, not a lake, and the Litara didn’t land, but sent us out in a small flyer-shuttle-thing and then, I guess, flew around in a circle. The town looked so similar. Almost the same plants, a similar layout, central amphitheatre, blockish houses. But at the same time, very different.
    “Threat.”
    We were well away from the edge of the town, following the remains of a road in the process of being undermined by the river. I’d been looking doubtfully at the very large number of paw prints laid over each other, so wasn’t particularly surprised. Sefen of Third indicated the first of them, standing well uphill. Muina’s version of a wolf, perhaps, though it was more like a border collie than the pictures of wolves I’ve seen. Black and white, not long-haired, ears upright – a bit larger than border collies and not nearly so amiable-looking. Not snarling, but watching in an attentive way, and the Setari wouldn’t be talking threat unless it was thinking about attacking us.
    “More ahead,” Ruuel said, glancing at Taarel.
    “We’re not here to clear,” she said. “Respond to attacks.”
    That was an uncomfortable journey. The dogs didn’t attack, but we kept seeing them on the tops of buildings and at the end of streets, watching, following. I was left with a strong impression of organisation and intelligence, and Auron and Ferus stuck very close to me. To my relief it looked like the dogs didn’t like the amphitheatre. Since the main reason we were there was to check out the platform, the emptiness was a big advantage.
    The platform room, other than suffering from a lot of ground grot, was just the same. The Setari took some touch readings, and set up the drone, and then the Ddura arrived. Completely hysterical.
    “Different Ddura,” I said, under all the Hhhhhaaaaa!-ing.
    “In the ecstatic phase,” Ruuel said, using text over the interface. They all kept talking in text after that, which I thought was nice of them. And better still that Fourth Squad took me back up top while Third finished the final tests. It was still horribly loud, but nothing like as painful as being in the same room as the platform.
    There were a ring of the dogs at the upper tier of the amphitheatre, just watching. Stephen King had come to town. I tried to figure out which dog was the pack leader, but there were quite a few candidates.
    One thing about communicating with text is it’s only my grammar which sounds bad. I don’t have to worry about my dreadful pronunciation and can write a lot before I transmit it. When Third Squad came up to join us, I sent: “These maybe descendant domesticated working dogs.