Date: Dec 01 - Jan 02
Author: Gok (h_raelynn@hotmail.com)

Notes: This series is a companion piece to 'Homecoming', but I'm hoping that it will also be able to stand on it's own. It's how the crew and the common folk deal with the loss of their ship and being where they now are. We'll see how I do . . . :) Please give feedback!

[Indicates thoughts]
*Emphasis*

****

(Kevin)

If you watched for a moment, the lifepod appeared to be merely hanging in space like it wanted to admire the view. If you continued watching, however, you would soon see the bright little glows of the pod's maneouvring thrusters as it made tiny, calculated moves to take it closer to the beautiful, small orb that was half-mottled white from clouds. What on it that was not clouds was a dozen shades of blue, a hundred of green, and a thousand other colours that marked it as a living world. On the side farthest from the local star, one narrow rim was covered in the blackness of night, and inside of that slender crescent a few twinkling dots could be seen, showing not only life but a flourishing civilisation.

If, for some reason, you were able to look away from that little marble of splendor, the rest of your view would be no less marvelous. The stars were thicker than sand on a beach, a dazzling backdrop that wrapped around and above and behind, and every tiny sparkle seemed to be a spotlight, all turned towards the other bodies that hung in the heavens.

After the stars, even if you could have somehow not noticed it before, there would no longer be any way to avoid seeing the absolutely enormous gas giant that sat as if it was an emperor at its court, more shades of brown and red and orange than your eye could ever pick out, dozens of thickly swirling, circling bands that looped around, each made up of thousands of roiling streams of colour that had braided together in a parade of unity. There were very few lifeforms, out of all those who had ever looked at this giant presence, that didn't swear by all the things they considered holy that the giant was watching them right back. It was deeply unsettling, and, after a while, extremely reassuring. This behemoth, royal and regal as he stands, overlooks quite an eclectic, circling crowd of courtiers.

Some were barren spheres, stiff and crisp to the eye, with every detail clear to your vision, greys in twelve hundred shades and more than that in other colours. A few larger ones, actual moons of the giant, were this way; plus billions upon billions of smaller chunks, spinning around in a tremendous loop, nearer to the outermost moons than to the inner, ragged and crisp, circling asteroids which all had their own place in the court. Some were worlds cloaked in mist, their murky atmospheres completely obscuring whatever mysteries were hiding below. Worlds with a thin skim of air about them, just enough to lightly blur the sharpest edges of the features underneath, and, further away than either the eyes inside the pod or it's sensors could see, more worlds, each more unique than any mere snowflake could ever be, two of which were even marked with those most precious marks, white and blue and green and brown. Life bearing, and though not as dazzling as the first you had seen, they were each an awesome display of magnificence in their own right.

However.

There were eight eyes inside that little, drifting lifepod. Four people, all in slightly scorched uniforms, all from the engineering department of a very proud vessel, all from the so recently and so deeply wounded Earthforce ship Sophocles. And one of them, even more so than the others, was fully and righteously pissed off.

His name, should you be interested, was Kevin DeClerke. The others with him in that tiny bobble of oxygen were privates by the names of Anika Clements, Daniel Capris, and Hoa Lan Bell. They had all been through the same terrible attack, the same shaking and fires and explosions, they had witnessed the same destruction and the same friends dying, and together they had fled the near-abandoned ship, after ensuring everyone else still breathing in or near engineering had left before them. They had together felt their hearts crack apart and fall into their shoes as the tiny display console had showed the flood of radiation spreading too, too fast as it swallowed the Sophocles: their ship, their home, their child and their career, and had together known what must be happening to the near-destroyed engines and hallways and computer systems.

None of the four had much reason to be happy. None of the over 900 fortunate souls to so far escape with their lives had much reason, apart from having their lives. But it was the lieutenant named Kevin DeClerke who was the most affected of his little group. He was, by rank and by having well-earned it, not just the on-duty supervisor for his section of engineering, but the Officer in Charge (OIC) for the entire engineering department, and it had fallen to him to perform the task which had run the proverbial sword through the heart of his mortally wounded vessel.

His mind knew, and had tried to tell him more than once in the long minutes since then that it had been the lesser of two evils, and that a semi-controlled radiation pour was better than a uncontained, ship-obliterating blast which had been the only remaining alternative. But knowing that the ship was still there, severely wounded, highly radioactive and catatonically waiting for them to hopefully return one day in the unknown future, did little to console the man. He still felt like he had murdered a close member of his own family.

They had almost been the last to leave the ship, and so were among the closest pods to the planet. Only a few before them had streaked downwards; there were over 200 more pods - almost the entire crew had gotten off the ship, it seemed - behind them, which would take hours or even a day or two longer to reach the world that loomed large on the little screen. The four had readied for the drop without any unneeded words; they had prepared for such things in innumerable practice drills. They were still silent, in anger and in reverence for those who no longer were, during and after the pod's long descent and plunge into a large, salty ocean. It was less salted than the ones on earth, though, and with more life than earth's waters now boasted, but there had once been a time when the mother-world of humanity had more than double the diversity of marine life.

The four continued their gloomy quietness as they took everything salvageable from the pod and loaded up the large, inflatable raft before the metal construct could spill too much water into its hatch and sink. There was a brief debate over whether or not they should take the pod's communications console - it had gone dark mid-descent, and now showed no signs of being functional. Unless they could find and fix the problem, contacting and finding the rest of the crew would be difficult if not impossible. They decided the error might be repairable, and heaved it into the raft. If it wasn't, the crew knew they could open the seal on the hand-held unit from the raft itself; to at least contact other people even if they could not get a directional scan from the comm unit. They were unsure what was to happen to them, apart from the somewhat urgent need to take medicines for the hopefully low levels of radiation their pod had caught in the outer fringes of the main core dump. They were all well-versed in the multiple variations on what they should do next. Maintaining the chain of command was the first priority, equal to reassembling the remaining crew. By then they'd have an idea if the ship was an attainable goal, if repairing it enough to return to Earth-controlled space was in any way feasible.

The variations on the plan were entirely based upon external factors. They had seen the lights of cities from their brief glimpse of the night side, so all the possibilities that ran through their heads included a substantial native population. Whether or not they were friendly. Whether or not the crew would be close enough to any natives to even encounter any of them, the two groups might be on separate continents. Whether or not it was a first contact situation, whether or not the natives had even considered the existence of aliens. How advanced the natives might be - would they be able to help fix the Sophocles, in raw metals or food supplies if nothing else? Who were the natives - an indigenous species, which was the greater of two unlikely possibilities, or was this world a colony - if so, colonized by whom? The questions went on and on.

Kevin DeClerke hadn't been expecting any population - he hadn't been expecting any habitable planets, even - his wife served in the astronomy department, and she had been complaining the evening previous about how dull the nearby stars were, and how the ship wasn't planning on stopping for more than a week - there simply wasn't anything nearby that anyone in the command crew thought worth stopping for. And while DeClerke wasn't an expert in things-outside-a-ship, he knew it would be a safe bet that the sheer variety of worlds he'd already seen in it would have warranted a visit to the system - so, either this system was completely unknown, which was unlikely but still possible given it's remote location, or, the system was under quarantine for some obscure but probably nasty reason.

It was all very depressing. He was unsure about his ship, he was unsure about his wife's safety and the safety of the rest of the crew, he was unsure of what was going to happen to any of them, and he certainly had no idea how they were going to get off of the wide, unbroken, unending ocean they were floating on. With no effective way to harness or even measure the currents and winds, they had no way to steer. They didn't even know which direction the nearest landmass was in, or even where the rest of the pods had - or were going to - set down. The rest of the crew was going to assemble at a central location; that was both training and standing orders. How long it might take, and if it would be possible to return to and then hopefully repair his ship; all the hard questions were answered somewhere between 'too long' and 'possibly never'.

DeClerke was certain of two things, however, as he sat on watch and tinkered with the obstinate comm unit - they'd almost paniced when they discovered that the hand-held was a useless mass of fried circuits and melted plastic bits, but they were at heart problem-solvers and had soon pulled a variety of small tools out of various pockets and niches - while the others tried to sleep. First, the salt spray was making the burns on his face itch and hurt even worse than they had before, and that the distant, setting sun that perched partly under the watery horizon was closing down the worst day of his career.

*****

The new day was not heralded by a chorus of angels, or the sound of trumpets and thunder, or even by the sun coming up. It was a quiet beginning for Daniel Capris, though it would not last - the sun was rising, make no mistake, but it had not yet shown its face above the pale shimmer of the water, only a gentle orange glow along one side of the great circle they floated in the middle of. It was not dark, however, not really - the background of the clear, unclouded sky above them was dark, jet and coal black, but it was punctured by uncountable stars, thickly spread, twice thicker than he'd ever seen them from Earth, even when he had been high in the mountains and far from the pollution of lights and emissions of a city.

Capris half-sat and stared upwards, wondering if one of the larger dots was their ship, if it could even be seen from where the raft floated. The others slept, lightly from pain and nausea and the chill that crept damply under the emergency blankets to bother all of them. The smell of the ocean around them was powerful to a nose long since used to the mechanical scents of a ship, stronger even than the faint smell of burned skin and healing sprays that surrounded him and the three others. He could pick out several things that weren't stars, but he wasn't sure exactly what they were - other planets, perhaps, but their orbits would have to be very close to this world's to even be noticed as anything different than a star. He wasn't sure how close they were, but they looked like tiny circles, not points. Another thing was a thin string of light, stretching off in what was probably the south, a solid thread that vanished off halfway to the horizon. That he could recognise as an asteroid belt.

There was a moon, too, a small but blankly bright circle that hung unmoving off towards the sunrise, a few inches above the horizon. It hadn't budged the entire time he had been looking, but everything else had rotated a little. The gas giant had been visible on the horizon when they had landed, but it had set before the sun even had.

He wished - not for the first time - that the sun would rise and warm them up. He did not know how hot it might get later, but right now he was cold and he wanted to be warm. He wanted his day to start, for something to happen.

Then, not quite sure of it, Capris thought he heard a voice. He sat up a little, and looked around at the water - nothing broke the horizon. They were still alone. But then it happened again - he was now sure of it - he heard something. With the comm unit still unresponsive, he had no way to check who or even what was out there. But he now sat straight upwards, looking as carefully as he could. At first, there was nothing, but then, just as the sun was edging a narrow sliver up above the horizon, a few degrees to the north of the blinding red ripple, a tiny, white speck had shot up into the air, barely an inch above the horizon, and visible even without binoculars.

"What is - WAKE UP!" he yelled, kicking the closest pair of legs, not taking his eyes off the hovering speck, pointing, "A flare, that's got to be a flare!"

Instantly awake, the other three all looked to where he was pointing, to where the speck had started to fade as it fell. DeClerke was already opening the supplies, and had a flare of their own loaded and ready to fire before the speck had vanished. "One way to check," he said, and aimed the gun upwards. A brief, blinding flash, and it was speeding upwards to a great height. "Watch carefully," he reminded the others, but there was no need, they were already looking in hope for a return signal. A moment later, a second, yellow speck had appeared, and the four stranded crewmembers began to feel a little better. Someone else was out there, who knew where they were. The others might even have a way to get to them, depending on the currents. Perhaps this raft were drifting towards an island, or it was another raft that was drifting towards them, but the four didn't need to say that they hoped whoever it was had a working radio. Capris continued to watch the horizon, hoping to see something and hoping it was getting closer to them. The other three had removed the cover from the console, and were trying with renewed vigor to figure out what was keeping it from receiving - and apparently sending - signals.

Capris was rewarded before the other three, watching as what first looked like a mere point grew slowly to become a mass of brown, then he could finally get enough resolution out from the binoculars to make out clearly what it was. He put the binoculars down to rub his eyes, then double checked. "Oh, this could be bad," he muttered, and the sounds of tinkering behind him suddenly stopped.

"What do you see?" DeClerke demanded.

He just handed the officer the binoculars. "How're you at first contact situations?"

" . . . Oh . . . Crap." DeClerke said, letting his hands drop. "That's a sailing ship."

"A what?" Bell asked.

"Remember the model of the Bluenose schooner private Ballard made and kept in the lounge for months? That idea. Big cloth fan things up on high poles, a boat that moved when the wind pushed it. I think we've got one of those coming for us."

"We did see lights in the nightside. Now we hope they're friendly." The four would have a few hours more to wonder, as the ship was approaching much slower than a shuttle or even airplane would.

They noticed details as it got closer - it was fairly small, with two masts and several large rectangular sails made out of a heavy, pale brown fabric. From the two meters that could be seen above the water, it looked to be assembled from planks of wood, and was about 15 meters long and maybe 6 wide - if that. On the uncountable ropes that ran every which way above the deck, they could make out the shapes of a humanoid crew, most in pale brown with darker heads, but a few . . . as they drew closer, more appeared to stand at the edges, and the new ones wore the same shade of blue that was worn by the four sitting in the raft. On the very front of the boat there was a carved and painted wooden figure attached to the hull, a being with too-large eyes on its head but no other features, arms spread out behind it to hold the top rail of the deck.

Soon they could see for certain - some of the people on the boat were wearing Earthforce uniforms, and those that did were waving. The others on the boat, apparently the sailing crew, were visible for only a few minutes before they pulled alongside the raft, as they scrambled up the ropes and masts and pulled in the sails to slow the ship down, and threw a few thick ropes to the raft to be caught. Even so, the Earthforce members got quite a shock, when they did recogise them. The aliens that were on the deck above their heads, who pulled the ropes back to draw the raft right up to the hull, were all Brakiri.

Another race, basically humanoid in shape and similar in culture to the Humans, they were also part of the Interstellar Alliance. Though a minor species (even compared to the Humans' current status) they were both member races of that vast conglomerate of species which had banded together out of desperation when the First Ones - gigantically proportioned, extremely ancient, immensely powerful Aliens - had wandered up eons ago and started to secretly interfere with, then very recently to massacre, almost every younger species they came across. Through little more than willpower and the need to trade to rebuild their shattered lives and economies, the surviving species had stayed in a loose Alliance; at least in the few years since the First Ones had been driven off. Continual warfare - both interspecies and civil - and bickering between the members were a constant threat to the integrity of the Alliance. And with a major race - Humanity - recently fallen under the threat of near-extinction and a homeworld under Quarantine, the situation did not look especially bright for anyone concerned. But the Brakiri were officially a friendly species, so the soldiers in the raft all breathed a small sigh of relief. Among these shortish beings with dark eyes, sleek black hair, and brown-green skin, there was a chance of hope.

A rope ladder was dropped, and a familiar face peered down over the railing. "Hello the raft! Can you climb up? They've got a winch here if you need it." It was Private Oakley, who also worked in the engineering department, and he was grinning like mad as he saluted.

They climbed up to a flurry of introductions. The Brakiri - who spoke little to no English - had located two other pods already, with a total of seven people between them. Three of whom were seriously injured, and were below the deck; carefully laid out in hammocks and wrapped in blankets that smelled like fish. The emergency medical kits from the pods were being well-used, but the Brakiri and Humans both expressed concern about possible internal bleeding. Two more were injured, but not as badly - broken limbs and such. The two that were relatively unharmed had been doing all they could, but none of them had more than the most basic first aid training. They needed to find a doctor, and better medicine, soon. As soon as the raft and it's contents were hauled onto the deck, the Brakiri were scrambling back up the masts and letting the sails down again, getting the ship moving again almost instantly.

Oakley filled them in as best as he could. They were (as much as the Earthforcers already on board could make out) looking for one more raft in the immediate area, then were heading back to shore, to a port, where the other rescued crewmembers were being gathered. It would take a few days to get there, and the winds were apparently as good as could be hoped for. "There is one odd thing, sir. The comm equipment, watches, anythin' technological - we've had to turn it all off and put it down in the cargo hold, under crates of what Ah think is fresh fish. It was the furthest away they could get it, short of tossin' it overboard, which is what they first wanted to do. They'll be quite insistent on it, sir. The guns being put away is understandable, as they aren't armed and there isn't much ammo to spare anyway, but our watches? Somethin' about all of it being rude and dangerous - they emphasised dangerous, and that we won't be able to use it on shore. Then they'd have to repeat that we weren't in trouble or prisoners or anythin' - just that we should not use our equipment. But other than that, they're friendly, sir. If nervous - they seem ah bit scared of us, probably not used to havin' strangers fall from the sky."

"For now, I'll go along. We don't know how to steer this boat, so we need to trust them. For now. Were you able to figure out why there's a Brakiri colony all the way out here? Brakir is even further than Earth in this direction."

"No, sir. They claim - we can't be sure with the language barrier - this isn't a Brakiri colony. But they are here, obviously - they have ah paper translation book with some words, but it's not complete by any means - and they've indicated pretty much every species it lists, but Ah've never even heard of most of 'em. So we know there's somethin' missin' there. But it's no tech, they don't have any sophisticated instruments - the lights in the hold? From some kinda lamp, ah flame run by ah clear oil. Could be ah religious taboo thing, since they were determined to keep ours put away, like the Amish or Hutterites. They seem aware of who we are, though, and have been makin' us all take the regen for radiation poisonin', but we're hoping any nausea we have is only seasickness. They had radiation in the book, they were clear on it. Hang on-" he stopped to gesture 'come' to a Brakiri who was standing near them, holding a slightly battered black thing in his hands and looking impatient. "That's what we're usin' to talk - they don't call it English, though, they call the language 'trade'. So it's likely we're not the only Humans to have landed here." He opened the book to show DeClerke and the others. It was done entirely by hand, in what looked like various inks and in different people's writing, the entries added in groups and singly as needed. There were lines of a Brakiri text - each word or phrase, then symbols to show how to pronounce it in english, with the English word written in Earth script at the end of each line to show the translation.

"Beats nothing, I guess. Divide out the medicine from our pod, the injured have to be cared for." DeClerke answered while he helped the sailors lift the limp raft over the railing and collapse it.

"Do y'all need anythin', sir? Yer lookin' ah bit grey yourself."

"We've been taking regen as well - our pod - 73 - was the second last to leave. We caught some of the radiation dump, for sure, but I hope to hell it's mild, especially if we're days from any kind of hospital."

Oakley looked a little alarmed, but quickly said, "Pod 187 was among the first to evac, they're just fine for radiation. We can lower their dose to increase yers. But what if your meds have been contaminated?"

"The scanner said no, but that was before it shorted out. Dig one of the others out, use it to double check. We need the medicine. Praying might be good, too," DeClerke added in a mutter, then nodded at Oakley to get moving.

It was a few hours more, and the sun had climbed enough to make it warm but not quite hot, when they spotted the fourth raft and sent up a flare. DeClerke was wondering aloud how much better eyesight the aliens had compared to Human, because the one who kept watch up on the top of the highest mast seemed to locate them several minutes before they could be seen with binoculars, even from the dizzying, swaying height that was the tip of the sailing ship. He had climbed up carefully to check for himself, but could see nothing but water, not even through the binoculars he held gripped in white-knuckled fingers. By the time the lieutenant had managed to climb back down, however, they were halfway to the raft. He felt beyond nauseated, and did not leave the surface of the deck again.

Three of the occupants of this raft - privates Lensor Isekemu, Randall Hodgson, and Tuan Lee - were in various minor states of injury, but the fourth, Kaya Orrin, was a doctor who had quickly set about determining how badly injured the other humans were, even convincing - or bullying, depending on how you viewed it, since the sailors were all smaller and considerably less muscled than any of the Earthforcers - the sailors to let her keep the one medical scanner that worked properly out and in use. The news was more bad than good - the three worst were indeed bleeding internally, but it did not seem as severe as it might have been. She had no way to fuse any of the broken limbs, but between the medical kits and a set of plaster and cloth strips the sailing crew had, she was able to properly set and bind up most of the broken bones. She wanted to perform surgery to try to help the worst injured, but the procedures were too complex to do without capable help and a steady, sterile surface. She did what she could, with local anesthetics and a single scalpel, to clean out the surface wounds; then bound them to keep the sutures from opening - already worrisome after been closed with a sail-repair kit the Brakiri had, sterilizing the tiny steel poker and thread with a strong Brakiri drinking alcohol before using them.

They'd again been heading as fast as were able towards the as-yet-invisible shore in the hours since picking Orrin and the final raft up, and after doing whatever she could with the limited resources, the physician had gotten into a loud, animated, and obviously frustrating discussion with a pair of the sailing crew. They had been trying to express something about the wounds on the Humans, but whatever it was was being lost.

"They've done that ah few times, sir," Oakley mentioned, as Capris and the others from pod 73 sat on the deck and tried to not feel so very ill. They had not been able to eat, not the pieces of dried fish the sailors offered, strange fruits, or the small loaves of grain bread. Even the cups of fresh water the sailors offered made the nausea worse.

"Done what?" DeClerke looked, his face a little grey-toned.

"That same set ah gestures. The crew has been arguin' over it ever since they pulled us aboard yesterday, all eight of 'em. With the hands going from their head to anothers. They're arguin' over whether or not they'd be allowed to do whatever the gesture means. Ah think. The book doesn't have any words to cover it, not really, and whatever it means, it scares them."

"What does it have, then?" Clements asked, not looking up from her knees.

"It's got two different explanations for citizen: one of 'em clearly means 'family' and the other is just plain 'citizen'. Ah think. What that has to with - whatever - Ah don't know. They seemed uneasy about tryin' to explain it, but then when they did try, we didn't understand ah word."

"But they did say there were others - not Brakiri - on the shore." This was stated by Capris, who was watching with some interest.

"Yeah. And that the others speak 'trade' - which is English, this language - a great deal better. Some, at least. We got that much."

The argument between the two sailors was brought to an abrupt halt when Orrin - beyond frustrated with the lack of communication - suddenly smacked them both on the sides of their heads and ordered them to just do whatever it was they needed to do. Astonished, the two sailors just stared at her for a few seconds as she glared right back at them. Then they called down the sailor who had been at the very top of the ship, and gave a single brief command. He looked at them like *they'd* gone insane for a few moments, but the order was repeated and he followed it, placing his hand on the side of the doctors face for a moment.

Nothing seemed to happen, though it looked like the one Brakiri was trying to concentrate on something. Then he shrugged, and the other two looked at each other in a bizarre mix of relief and worry. They asked him something, then one of the two placed his hand on the other side of her face and they both concentrated.

"Nothing's happening, if you're curious," Orrin said as the aliens pulled back with a faint sigh. The one gave a slight bow and an apologetic phrase before climbing back up to the top of the ship, and the other two looked just as sorry as they flipped through the book, having apparently given up on whatever it was they wanted.

"What was that about?" Capris asked the others around him.

"No idea."

The Brakiri had found a page in particular, and one of them went off below the deck while the first pointed out the line he needed to say to her, then flexed the muscles on his arm and pointed to them with a resigned look, jabbering away a whole mess of words. He was apparently trying to explain a lack of strength for something, but soon had dropped the subject. "No, no word here - all being gone, gone dead or came here, Sanctuary. Safe here, no more killed here, no more killed Human, no more killed Brakiri, none killed here, all safe."

"What weren't killed? There's got to be a word for whatever it is!"

The alien just gave a nervous smile and shook his head side-to-side, a just-learned gesture meaning 'no'. Orrin let the matter go.

Another argument popped up immediately, and after a minute DeClerke staggered to his feet and walked over. "Now what is it?"

"Same thing as before, sir. They claim to know something that'll help the sick, but expressing *what* is proving difficult." Orrin looked grumpy. "Something about a bird that isn't a bird."

She was saved from further confusion when the sailor who'd just returned to the top of the ship gave out a shout, pointing ahead of them. "Another raft or ship?"

The Brakiri holding the translation book was glaring at it and muttering swearwords in various languages, then reached over to touch the binoculars Capris had wandered over with, and gave the group of them a shove towards to front of the boat, still looking in the book as he walked.

They couldn't see anything at first, but after a few more moments of scanning, they spotted a tiny dot, just above the horizon. "Is it a ship?"

"No - it's in the air - maybe it's one of the shuttles?"

"Too slow, a shuttle would be here by now - did they even get off the ship before . . . before the blast?"

"They were both evac'd, along with the pods," DeClerke said. "If the ship can't be fixed and used to get us home, the Captain - or whoever is still alive to be in charge, if she didn't make it - will have them fly up and set the self-destruct charges. But that would mean we'd be stuck here. So they'll likely save their power for return trips, get a damage assessment and start repair crews. We're lucky enough as it is. The Drakh ships bought it on the way here - if there had been anything hostile left up there, she'd have scuttled it right off."

"No orbiting defenses that we saw. What's to keep another fleet from swooping down on us now?" This was asked by Private Mura, who had been in the same pod as Oakley.

"Ask the Brakiri," the Lieutentant grumbled.

One of whom was standing right beside them, and soon realised what their charades were acting out. "No, no attack from stars, no more. Sanctuary here, all safe. Citizens sealed - protected."

"How?" Hodgson had come over to take part in the lively interchange.

This the alien didn't have the word for, but he got a crate lid from below deck and handed it to Isekemu, indicating he should hold it up with his uninjured arm. Then he picked up a short pole from where it was lashed to the deck and jabbed it at him a few times, letting Isekemu block his mock attacks with the lid. Then he pointed to the lid, and made a large circle with his arms. "Stopped, no attack, only friend enter, safe here. Sanctuary here, all citizens safe."

"Sealed - waitaminute - is there some kind of shield around this place?" Bell asked.

"Shield! Yes. Shield," he repeated, obviously proud to have figured out the word. "Sanctuary shield, all safe."

Oakley scratched his head. "This is ah Sanctuary? For people? Ah guess my religious comparison might be accurate then. Never heard ah the Brakiri persecutin' anyone, but ya never know."

Capris hadn't let go of the binoculars yet, he was still watching the approaching flying thing. "Funky bird - more like a giant bat, not very high up either, heading right at us . . . Ask him how this shield let us in. Is it only set to protect against the Drakh, or can pirates get in?"

The individual in question was already flipping through the translation book, looking for a particular word and grumbling to himself.

"This is taking forever," DeClerke muttered, rubbing his head with his hands. "God, I feel awful."

"Sir!" cried two people at once, alarmed. A third reached out and grabbed his arm down, staring at the clenched fingers.

His fist was full of hairs, fallen out from radiation poisoning. "Ohhhh shit. Get Orrin."

The Brakiri, who hadn't noticed yet, made a sound of victory and flipped the book over, pointing to a particular line, but when he saw what DeClerke was holding, he dropped the book in alarm and yelled back to the rest of his crew.

The sailors made the whole lot of Humans sit down on the deck, and checked the rest of them for hair loss, clearly worried. The four who had been in pod 73 were the last ones present to have left the Sophocles. They were the only ones who had any hair coming out, but the medical scanner Orrin had could not tell how severe the damage might be. As it was, DeClerke seemed the worst off. The Brakiri made them get the few remaining packages of regen out and forced all of the Humans to take another dose. There wasn't enough for each to take a dose after that, only the four sickest, but a few minutes later the shortage was temporarily forgotten - the flying creature was close enough to see clearly.

"It looks like a dragon," observed Hodgson. "A big, hairy dragon."

"I was thinking giant bat," Isekemu replied. "The bird that wasn't - they don't have a word for flying in that book, do they?"

"It looks like it's having trouble flying, it's flapping oddly. It'll hit the water if it's not careful. And there's someone riding it, I think. They're staying real close to the body."

The semi-fluent Brakiri did his best to explain. "Few, very few - came from stars - home gone - First Ones kill world, others all die. Few safe here - not go up - few - few -" he seemed at a loss to say more.

"Air," Orrin suddenly said as she watched the flying beast struggle closer. "The air on this world is rather thin - it might have evolved on a planet with thicker atmosphere. Look at how overdeveloped it's wings muscles are, how deeply it's breathing. It must have to put in a lot of effort to get around, and the gravity here might be higher than wherever it came from. Still moves fast, though."

"Air?" The alien asked, the word clearly unfamiliar.

Orrin took a few deep breaths in and out, gesturing as she did so. "Air."

"Yes! Few air here, had more in before home, go slow from few air here. Yes."

The dragon-bat flew overhead, almost touching the top of the ship, but it was off to one side just a little. The sailor who'd been sitting on the top gave a shout and scrambled down a few feet before he could be knocked over. It slowly looped around, as the rider made the huge beast bank around, pulling hard on the reins that led to a series of small metal loops embedded into the creature's neck. As it was about to pass over again, the rider -species hidden by leather clothing, helmet and goggles- pulled a bulky package out of a harness behind where it sat, and let it hang down behind the flapping wings from a long, long rope, letting go of the great length just before it passed overhead again. The package dropped, hitting the sails as it fell, and the rope snagged in the rigging that kept the sails in place before it could smash into the wooden deck. The top sailor quickly climbed out and untangled it, letting the package down a few feet at a time, until the crew below could grab it, then he tossed the rope down as well, resuming his post at the top.

A few of the sailors leaned half-off the ship towards where the dragon-bat was flying off towards shore again, and yelled something that sounded like a thanks. The rider gave a brief wave, and leaned back down against the beast. It was many kilometers to the shore, and they likely could not rest until they could land, but the creature was flying a little easier with the different wind direction.

The rest of the sailors had quickly unwrapped the protective layers of cloth, and jabbered excitedly among themselves. They waved Orrin over, grinning.

"Maybe that was the mailman," Lee muttered, propping himself up to watch as he rubbed at the cast on his leg.

"It's medicine," Orrin stated with a grin. "Packs and packs of it - they're labeled in English - radiation treatments, antiseptic wash, tissue growth boosters, burn salves, pain relievers. They all say 'human safe', too. From that port we're aiming for - Na'Tupi has a decent hospital, it seems. Glory Hallelujah!"

She quickly sorted out the contents into small piles, smiling all the while. "It's not regen, but the ingredients are listed - all similar components, though, same uses - stuff to soak up unstable atoms to be purged, stuff to help DNA self-repair, immune system boosters, stuff to slow cell reproduction to protect them - the lot of it. I'll have to measure out and time the doses, but there's hordes here, more than enough. Wonderful! Here, start with the burn salve on your faces - No! Hang on. Take the tissue boosters below decks, the others need to be treated first. I'll be right down."

~~~~

The sailing crew and the Earthforce crew had spoken little to each other, since it took so much effort and was often useless; but the Humans saw that some of the blank space in the back of the book had been filled with the words that had been explained to the Brakiri. There was even a little progress made by the Humans in picking up a bit of their host's language, but any and all attempts at pronouncing the gutteral sounds left their would-be teachers in stitches from laughing so hard, and whatever the Brakiri used for sentence structure was apparently far beyond Human grasp. It was hard for the humans to be sure what was being said with the bizarre mix of vowels that went forever, tongue clicks, and grunt-like sounds. There was some learning done, however, mostly just basic nouns (ship - deck - ocean - bread, etc) and a few easy verbs such as the word that the Humans were fairly sure meant 'eating'. This cheered them slightly, but the Humans still had to wait for answers they both wanted and desperately needed. Most of the unanswerable things eventually led to the same set of phrases. "City Na'Tupi, port city, much trade, make ships, some Human there, you come, you meet other crew, we go to port!"

The Humans, though tired, sick, and frustrated, had soon realised that the Brakiri were going seriously out of their way to be accommodating. How rapidly the food and water stores diminished, the soldiers could not have missed - the crew had brought supplies for 8, not 23, and even then had evidently been hoping to catch most of their food from the water - but they did not stop to put out the nets with the Earthforcers on board. Then, just past dawn on the third morning . . .

A shout from Mura had brought all those who could walk to the sides of the ship. They had encountered a school of large, silver-blue fish. Several feet long each, the water was suddenly so packed that the ship had trouble moving forward, and the fish made the waters around them froth for miles, almost as far as they could see. The Brakiri had looked ready to cry at the sight. When questioned why, they looked at the Human who had asked like he was insane, then pointed out the piles of nets that were folded up and tied back out of the way.

"Oh - I get it," Lee had said with sudden understanding. "You guys are fishermen - the hold's almost empty, right, and you've got all those empty crates - oh . . . Crap. You can't to stop to catch any, can you?"

"You need to get us to port. You're going back empty, because you need to hurry. You haven't even slowed down." Clements stated, and looked down at the thousands of fish that swarmed about the hull. "You're sacrificing your catch."

The sailors looked rather anguised, but they did not stop to put out a single net. A few of them had carefully lashed themselves to the railing and leaned over with long jagged spears to harpoon a few of the fish, but the ship did not slow down, and within a few hours more, the school had been left behind. The fact that the speared fish tasted beyond excellent when roasted in the little oil-fired oven the crew had was not lost on the Humans. The crew had sacrified what must have been a fantastic occasion to pack their hold.

It was the fifth day after the Drakh attack before they finally sighted land, early in the afternoon. DeClerke had lost most of his hair by then, but what he had left was remaing thanks to the intense treatments Orrin had stuffed down them all. Capris had lost a few patches, but Clements and Bell only had their hair thin out a bit. The others were all fine, and most had passed out of the queasiness that came from the continual rolling movement of the boat. There was little any of them could do for the three crewmembers who had been critically injured, but those men did not worsen any, and one of them had briefly regained consciousness on the fourth morning as the sailing ship raced as fast as it could - it still seemed to take forever - for the shore.

~~~~

It was now the fifth day, and the sun was just past it's highest point. It was broiling hot on deck, and only a little better in the hold, but Daniel Capris wasn't sheltering from the sun below deck. He was on the deck - in the mild strip of shade provided by the forward sails - looking around at the dark, fuzzy line that was the shore. He'd been raised in a town that bordered the ocean and he'd had several opportunities growing up to go sailing, though all the boats he'd been on before had been powered by an engine and not sails. It had been something he'd missed while serving in Earthforce, and with the recent quarantine of Earth, it looked like it would be a very long time before he could get back onto water, once the trip here was done. *If* they could return - they still did not know if the ship could be repaired or would have to be scuttled.

He was watching the little distant dots that were other sailing ships outlined against the tall, bumpy line that was a great coastal mountain range, and wondered if this world had anything like the occasional sea turtle, or the Orcas that had swum by where he had grown up. Or Dolphins, even, though the plague might soon wipe them, since all the whale types were air-breathing mammals, they were as doomed as the majority of Humans were. He didn't have any close family left on earth, just some distant cousins - the few family members that he did have, were now mostly on the Proxima Colony. He did have an older sister who wasn't, but she had gotten pregnant several years ago and had left home without much of an explanation right after the baby had been born. Where she'd gone, they didn't know, but a few hours after she'd vanished, some men had come by the apartment, searching for her daughter. When the hospital had done the usual genetic screening to check for birth defects that might have to be treated, the test had popped up a telepath marker on the girl. And his sister had never been seen again, though she had left the occasional untraceable message saying they were fine. The former Psi Corps had done several sweeps in his neighborhood in the years following, still searching for the pair of them. She might have gone to Earth, after the Corps had collapsed, but Daniel hadn't gotten any recent messages saying where she was. He hoped she wasn't on Earth - they'd both be infected if they were.

Time to reminisce aside, the heat gave him a chance to walk around wearing nothing but a head covering and pair of shorts. That was a very rare event, and worth it. Especially with a thick layer of lotion on to prevent the local sun from giving him a sunburn. He watched and thought for a while longer, then he noticed with a start that one of the dots wasn't heading for the shore, in either direction. It was gradually getting closer, sailing under the same wind they were, but it was heading out from the land, towards them. The Brakiri ship had pulled its sails half in, and angled them to move in the direction they wanted, now depending more on the strong southern current to carry them closer to the port that he couldn't quite make out, though the sailors had pointed it out to him. The other ship - much shorter, with very little hull visible - had it's sails out to full and at a different angle, and was closing the distance at a decent pace; almost as fast as the dragon-bat had flapped. He watched with interest as it came closer, noticing that the sailors seemed to be expecting it. They called DeClerke up to the deck when it was almost beside them.

It was quite a small ship, with the deck barely clearing the tips of the higher waves, and not much more than a foot underneath the water. The three people on it probably had wet feet. It was a catamaran - two long, sleek hulls beside each other, with a small deck perched between them and a sail that looked too big for it secured in the middle, clearly made for speed and not cargo. The crew - two aliens that he did not recognise either species of, and one Minbari - quickly spun the sail and dropped it down, coming to a near-halt beside the larger fishing vessel, but they got close enough before stopping that Daniel was certain for a few seconds that they were going to crash. The crew knew what they were doing however, and caught the lines the Brakiri tossed from the railing, holding their two boats together for the few seconds it took for the Minbari to catch the rope ladder dropped down and scramble up it. Then the ropes were tossed right back up, and the two remaining on the catamaran pulled the sail back up a little, just enough to carry their craft away from the fishing ship and back towards shore, the back(stern) of the boat now serving as the front(prow) as they pulled away enough to let the sail out full. They were a hundred meters off before the Minbari had even introduced herself, but one waved back when she called out what was probably 'thank you'.

The delay was partly because both Humans present were too surprised to say anything for a moment. DeClerke stood where he was, unable to move closer for a few moments, shock etched into his features. Then, in a blatent act of stupidity, Daniel found himself saying, "What's a *Minbari* doing on a Brakiri colony?"

"Ah," she said. "They didn't get past the language difficulties, then."

"You speak English?!"

"Fluently, I am told, although I must apologise to you if I should chance to make errors, they are not intended and I am open to more teachings. We figured you would want a few answers before you got to shore, and I was available. So here I am."

" . . . you've got a tan!" Isekemu exclaimed as he came over.

She laughed at that. "You've never seen that before?"

"Not on a Minbari. They usually have shoes on, too."

She did indeed have a tan, a fairly deep one. And her feet were bare. She was apparently quite young, as her face showed no sign of age, plus her bone crest was bright green and quite smooth. A member of the most numerous and advanced (out of those surviving) species in the Alliance, her kind was instantly recognisable by the distinctive, rippled growth that consumed the back and top of her skull, covering where hair would appear on a human. She had on a short-sleeved outfit, one layer and simply made, with leggings that went just past her knees done in a light brown and none of the fancy fabrics, embroidery, or even armor that they'd come to associate with Minbari clothing. She also had a small flat bag slung around her neck and one shoulder, made out of what appeared to be leather. "My name is Jhosell. The rest of it is too hard for Humans to pronounce, so you'll have to use the familiar. I'll be a guide, of sorts, while you're in the city - this ship should make port in a little under an hour -" she pointed over the railing to where a white tower could be seen off in the distance "- the beacon there - lighthouse - marks one edge of the entry to the bay. It's not far, then we can get your crew to shore and settled - some of you will need to go to the hospital, yes?"

"Three of my crew need immediate surgery, they haven't been able to get it yet. There are others whose need is less urgent," DeClerke pointed out the cast on Isekemu's arm. "Plus we should continue the radiation therapy," he added, running a hand over his near-bald scalp, hidden under a pale brown bandana.

"I figured as much - several of your crew have already gathered in the city, more are still travelling, and a few of them were injured. Where to start - should you call your crew to deck, or is it easier for me to go below for the talk? You'll need to get your crew on deck once we reach the city anyway, but those badly injured should stay put until they can be safely carried."

DeClerke took the few steps to the hold's hatch and called down the ladder. Within a minute, all the humans who could move had climbed up to the deck, though Lee and Mura both had a bit of trouble getting the leg with the cast over the edge, and needed to use another body as a crutch. One of the Brakiri spoke with the Minbari girl for a minute while they assembled, then went back to keeping the ship sailing properly.

"First of all, hello and welcome. I am called Jhosell. We - as in all the colonists here, and yes this *is* a colony, though not for just one or even five species - certainly were not wanting company from the stars, not for a great many years, but you did not come to attack, and for that we are grateful. Also - you are in need of help, of assistance, and every single soul here understands that need. So we will help, and willingly. Most of us would have helped even without the orders from the First Council to do so - they are the ones we've elected to run this world, such as it is. Any who would not have helped, will simply keep out of your way. None here will do harm to you intentionally, that is the most important thing you will have to remember for as long as you are here."

She paused to take a deep breath, seeing how her audience was obviously itching to ask questions. "We, as people and individuals, will defend ourselves with whatever measures are required, but I repeat that we will not intentionally cause you harm. I understand that your communication has been limited with the sailing crew?"

"Definitely," Bell said, and she was echoed by several others.

"Right, then. I speak English, as you can hear, which is a main reason I was sent to say hello. The other main one is that I can stand being around Humans - you smell terrible to most species, especially if you haven't had a chance to bathe. There are tubs, soap, and hot water back at the port." She grinned at the relieved expressions. "There is also a hospital, and healers from many backgrounds, so you do not need to worry too much about that. The reasons we are going to this city are several - it is one of the closest, the citizens there are used to Humans - there are several in the city and nearby, but most there are not your species. Most important, it has a road inland - the news that has come says most of your crew has come down quite far to the north, and is gathering in a city on the inland side of the mountain range - Human run, and central to the majority of your crewmembers. This colony is still young, less than 5 of your Earth years. I think. I'm not completely sure how long an Earth year is compared to the year on Minbar or here - but it has been a short time."

"Some of the settlers, most of which have settled on the coast across the continents, came here because their original homeworlds were destroyed in the war with the First Ones. None were here before that happened. As such, not all places are completed, not all roads, and there is no rail system, not for a great many years. There is a road from Na'Tupi, yes, across a mapped path, but it is still rough, and there is still a great shortage of riding and hauling animals, and the vehicles that they would pull. When you travel, you will have to walk, I can assure you that. And it is not a short distance. Those of you who cannot walk, well, we will decide that. Or rather, *you* will have to decide that. There are other ways to get you there, if your legs have not healed by the time your ship is ready to depart. And yes, we do hope and intend for you to leave. We have no use what-so-ever for soldiers here, ours is a calm and peaceful path. The ones who could not follow that way were not allowed to stay either. Every being here has chosen to come, and then chosen to stay."

"Ya don't want us here," Oakley repeated.

"To be completely honest, no. Not as a group, and most individuals either. The reputation of your captain has preceded her! We will not separate any of you from the whole, and will not keep you from your ship. To do so would be both foolish and dangerous. She is reported to be with the eastern wing of the landings, and is quite far to the north. She has a distance to walk, as well, less than a third of what you will have to do, but there is no road in the passes her group has come down in. She will arrive at the gathering-place - a city named The Wall - weeks ahead of you. I expect. I have never been there myself, but I have maps - has the crew here been able to provide you with any maps that show beyond the shoreline?"

"No. They only have water maps," Private Allaman griped.

Jhosell nodded to herself, and pulled a collection of short, rolled papers out of the pouch she had slung across her chest. "Is there a table available? No? The deck, then. Don't crowd, they aren't leaving you. Our entire world was mapped from the sky, before we had to land our ships for the last time - it is a fair distance through hyperspace to the nearest spacedock to repair them, they were dismantled for the metals instead. This is where we are, that is the port city. The pass goes along here through the mountain range, to the prairies, then there is a road north all the way to The Wall." She unrolled a second map, placed it above the one already on the deck, then traced the route with her finger. It took both of the long, narrow lengths to show the entire road, as the maps were more east-west than north-south. "It is already an important trade center, so it will be fairly easy to assemble you together there. The others have landed in this area, almost exactly west of it, though the pass is rather winding, and here, scattered in the prairies. A few - such as yourself, but I suspect the number of those who splashed into this ocean will grow as the reports come in - have come down about here, though the ocean lander reports have them quite scattered. Others are apparently scattered all over, but the majority are with a month's easy walk to The Wall. Often less."

She did not miss the way DeClerke was staring intently at the map as he rubbed the unadorned gold ring on his left hand, but the Human did not put a voice to his obvious concern for someone he was missing. "I have not heard of any serious malfunctions of the pods. Many minor complaints, yes, but I can say that the great majority of your crew was able to get off your ship - all who were alive to do so, I would guess - so any family or friends should be safe. It is only a short wait until you can see them again, and messages with names will be able to travel faster than you, even."

"What's this star for?" Capris tapped a spot on the map, near the far edge of the bottom map, much more east and south than the farthest landing had been indicated.

"That is the captial. The one for the Northern Continent. I don't have maps for the Southern with me, none of you will get anywhere near it, it's simply too far, and in the wrong direction than where you need to go. But if you want to know where the Northern Capital is, just look to Meth - that moon there - it's locked into orbit right over top of where the city was built."

"An' this mark?"

"That's where the ship I landed on came down. Maybe not important enough for a typical map, but I own this set and I can mark them as I wish. I felt it was important. This mark, here, is where the first ship ever set down. There are few other landing sites - Na'Tupi was one, there is a large space preserved that was the original landing grid. It has a large, excellent port - and the pass, as I mentioned - so it was chosen as a staging area for ground and water expansion. It's a nice place, but noisy - the construction has begun in earnest this year, since this is the first summer we have had reliable crops growing in enough quantity to ensure we'll hopefully not be hungry this winter - a downside to an agrarian world."

"You've had a ways to walk, if you're living here but landed there," DeClerke pointed out.

"I know, but I heard I had family here, and I have no farming skills, so I was not needed to remain where I was. I paid my way by manual labor along the path - assisting in weeding, hauling firewood, helping remove timber and stumps from the roadway, the usual gruntwork anyone who's physically healthy can do. I work as an interpreter now, for the families who need me to assist. And I help my uncles at the hotel when they require it - they have volunteered to let you stay there, until you start your walk, and longer if some need it. That is how your meals will be provided, as well. Oh! *Before* it comes up - I am here because I was preceded by family who were citizens - and I am *not* a threat to you in any way, nor is my family - one uncle only, and he will likely avoid you if he can, that is all. The sailing crew say you have not been able to be told the *why* for us all being here. I'll have to tell you, but that can wait for shore. You all are in serious need of bathing. And this news would sit better on a meal, I am very sure."

"What, fed for free?"

"You have no money to pay for it. If there is a way for you to pay them back, they will ask it. Expect to push a broom, wash dishes, simple chores. Much of the building has not yet been built - it will be noisy, I can tell you that, during daylight, so they could not easily rent out their rooms anyway - it is not the peak trading season, the demand is still light. You will probably need the assistance of a good translator while you are there, anyway, and that is where I live. For now. I hope to have an apartment of my own when there are more houses made, but as yet the citizens with small children or elderly parents have the priority for building, they do not have kind uncles to depend upon, only tents in rows, which can get cold on winter nights."

There were more questions that they had, but she looked them over and did not let them ask yet. "We will be there very soon - you can see the entrance to the bay from where we are, and will dock in a few more minutes - the tide is good, we will not have to wait - with your injured, you will be given priority if there are others waiting to dock. You should gather your things - you have been told, I am sure, that your electronic devices, your technology, is to be locked away, not to be used. Yes?"

"Yes, they said it was dangerous, but they could not say why. They wanted to dump it in the ocean, even."

"It is not dangerous to you, do not worry. But it is *extremely* dangerous to a few of those here, and is annoying and rude to many. All electronics must be turned off, and the power packs removed if at all possible - they will be sealed away - you may take them with you when you leave our world, but you cannot, absolutely CAN NOT have them out during your stay. It is not the least bit negotiable - whether it works or not, can be turned on or not, if there is so much as a single moving electron in it, it is forbidden, for the safety of the rest of us. They are to be wrapped up, sealed away, as far down in the cellar as we can put them, and we will post guards on the doors down - you may keep watch as well if you wish, but there will be guards. I cannot stress enough to you how important this is - there must be no current at all, in any device whatsoever. Not even a timekeeping device, nothing. It must all be put away. We will have to check the shores before the devices and seriously injured can be moved to the pier - but the injured only need wait for a stretcher and people to carry them," she reassured Orrin.

They were all looking at her differently now, as if they really didn't trust her. "Gather your things, we will dock soon. We will call for crutches, stretchers when we dock - there will be some of your fellow crew there already, waiting, and I do not like repeating myself. The Hotel is on the southern side, exactly across the landing - well - from the center pier is it slightly to the ocean side, but it is the widest construct you will see, and impossible to miss. The second floor is topped with canvas tents on one wing, the other wing is covered in scaffolding and is almost 3 stories. I will lead the way. I have many more things to explain, and a few of the basic rules to go over - they are all simple things, such as do not steal. Go, get ready." She scooped up the maps and rolled them up again, dismissing the gathered humans.

They were already at the harbour, and she had not been kidding that it was large. Oval shaped, it was almost exactly a kilometer wide and quite a big longer than that, with a river visible at the inner end, and dozens of piers visible on both the north and south shores, though the northern piers looked to be all drydocks and construction - the boats and piers looked to be all of wood and plant material - and none were especially large. The sailing ship they were on, which was a little crowded at under 30 people, looked to be one of the largest in the harbor. Some of the boats were about 10 meters long, most were less than that, and some of the smallest did not even have sails, but oars visible. The southern piers looked to be nearly full, and there were several more piers being constructed as he watched. The sailing ship aimed for an empty southern dock, one that stood fairly high above the water. It was almost level with the deck once the ship was beside it. They could see nothing but steep grey cliffs all around the harbour, the city above them was still hidden from view; as were the unending mountain peaks that they had watched for the past few hours. Across the port, they could see the top half of the mountains to the north, but they looked to be several kilometers off. The city - or whatever the colonists called a city, after only a few years of being on the world it was likely not much more than a village of prefab metal boxes - had not yet been sighted. They could hear noise, though, and not just from the busy docks around them.

Of the various species that made up the crews Daniel could see when he reappeared on the deck (his uniform again being worn despite how dirty it had gotten, but he had no other belongings), about 3/4ths were obviously Brakiri. The others, he was not sure of, but he was not close enough to get much besides a general sense of confusion settling on his chest. There were other Brakiri waiting on the pier as they slid up next to it and tossed down the anchors, catching the ropes that were tossed and tying them to poles to keep the boat secure. There were several humans also present on the dock, wearing the Earthforce blues, but he did not recognise their faces. He waved back anyways, and heard one call "You are in for a helluva surprise!"

Another Minbari, an older male, was waiting as well and Jhosell yelled out a few things to him before they were even beside the pier, and held up three of her fingers. He called back a single word, and ran off to the closest of many sets of stairs that led up the cliffs that lined the bay, just behind the walkways connecting the piers. There were three rope and pulley setups as well, spaced between the multiple stairs: winches for moving things that could not get up and down the array of steps. The cliff was too high to see any of the city above them. "What did you tell him?" DeClerke asked.

"That we would need some crutches brought down, and how many needed brought to the hospital immediately. There are likely a few healers already waiting on the heights, just in case they were needed. The injured might need to be winched up, as it is, but the healers will want to come right down, to talk with your healer - the Orrin woman? Yes, then."

A long, flatish board was put out to walk down, and Jhosell led the way off the ship with a flurry of goodbyes and thank yous to the sailors. All the crewmembers took a moment to remember what it was like to stand on a surface that was staying still, then started for the same set of stairs the Minbari male had run up. Lee, who had propped himself up along the railing until the path was a little clearer and the promised crutches arrived, recognised the crew who had come to greet them, and called out. They went over to talk to him, but remembered to salute DeClerke when they saw his rank insignia on the way, and told him it would be better to let his guide explain things. They'd give a report afterwards. DeClerke was obviously too tired to disagree, simply ordering Oakley and Hodgson to wait until the equipment could be brought.

They climbed the stairs slowly, their legs unused to such things; Jhosell was almost pacing with impatience near the top. They did have to move aside once as several others - of multiple species, making the others blink in surprise - came tearing down past them, but they were carrying crutches and other things that showed they were on their way to assist the injured crew. The hill was steep, almost 10 meters high, and they were out of breath by the top, but when DeClerke raised his eyes from the last riser, he stopped breathing altogether for a few seconds while he looked. There were a multitude of buildings visible - stretching from one end of the bay to the other, along the river and the other side of the bay - what had to be several square kilometers of neatly laid blocks of stone. Most of them were only a story or two tall so far, and were obviously incomplete. They looked to be blocks cut from large stone slabs, or made of brick for the most part. There wasn't a trace of anything metal or prefab in sight - none of the buildings were even made of wood, though the scaffolding that enveloped over half of them showed an abundance of timber.

It was obviously low-tech: no electric lights or signs, no motor vehicles: no vehicles at all, apart from a few small, primitive carts being pulled by various animals or pushed by people, and the vast assortment of smells that came with the sights, but none of that was the reason he was so shocked, and his feeling was mirrored by each crewmember as they, too, topped the climb and saw. What shocked him was that in only 3 seconds of looking, if not less, he could see almost 30 different species in just the one area. He had *never* seen that many species together before, not even when he'd been to the Babylon 5 trade-station on shore leave, many years ago. And there wasn't a single fight to be seen, despite the incredible variety in front of him. "What . . ." he tried, but could not finish.

Jhosell gritted her teeth to smile, then gestured grandly about her and said, "Welcome to Na'Tupi, the trade city on the bay of the River Bai'Natu."

DeClerke, well beyond surprised at the sheer number of races, turned to Jhosell and demanded, "Finish explaining where the hell we are!"

*****

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