---Admiral---

---Haorken's perspective---

"Hhk hm NGH! Ghhg hm gghk nhg khghng! HHK HM NGH!" screams Whalhnek through the muzzle secured around her earhorns, forcing her mouth closed and covering her fangs to render her lower face safe for those needing to handle her.

Her eight legs are each folded and bound to themselves (tarsal joint to coxal) and eachother (patellal to patellal) at her side, her palps similarly secured at her front and her arms lashed behind her back.

She thrashes and strains furiously against her bonds as she's wheeled through Khawekh on the cart.

My arms are exhausted from the prolonged period I've held them in front of me, carrying the pallet which contains her twenty five crying children, a blanket draped from my shoulders to shield them from the cold.

I see the welcome sight of the Terran healers, Phan and Hatathli, hurriedly approaching me.

"Madam Regent…" greets Phan, his worried face turning from me to the manic woman making a spectacle of herself behind me "…we've brought antipsychotics to administer her but, before we do so, we'd like to take some brain and blood readings in order to better understand the condition for the future. Doing so may help us treat or, better yet, forestall postpartum mania in subsequent cases. It shouldn't delay her treatment by more than 20 minutes or so. Do we have your proxy consent to both gather the data and administer the drugs?"

"Permission granted." I say, wearily, before raising my voice behind me to instruct "Take Healers Phan and Hatathli down to the dungeon with you. Stay in her cell with them while they perform whatever action they deem necessary for her wellbeing and the amelioration of future cases. Once she appears to have calmed, she may be unbound and ungagged at discretion. However, this is not to be attempted with fewer than four Vrakhand women present in the cell to subdue her if necessary and not to be attempted with anyone besides Vrakhand women present in the cell. She is to remain confined to the dungeon until further notice."

"Thank you, Madam Regent. Don't worry, we'll see she gets the help she needs. My deepest apologies that this is necessary at all!" answers the older of the two bipeds as they both join the cart on its way to the dungeon.

"Your apology is unnecessary, Phan." I answer, simply, taking the other path on the fork.

Whalhnek is twisting her body and head back to keep her eyes fixed on me and the obscured pallet I hold, still psychotically screaming "Ngg!… NGG!… GHHG MH GGHK NHG KHGHNG!!!" as she thrashes against her restraints.

Sighing, I make my way to the nursery tent.

I step inside the second largest interior space in the city and (careful of my footing, both for wayward infants and for antiescape fences that, to me, present a tripping hazard) I make my way past the raised brazier, lighting and heating the room from the centre, across the floor to where I see Bhormhidh.

I don't reach to him, however, before I'm waylaid by a frantic looking nonKhawekhan male with seven eyes and relatively fresh claw marks on the right side of his face.

"Did you find them all?!" he pleads, desperately, looking to where he can hear his children's cries.

Not able to give an affirmative gesture with my hands occupied, instead, I shrug my shoulders forward, allowing the blanket his children were tented beneath to slide to the floor.

Mharvhag emits the single most relieved exhale I've ever heard at the sight of all his progeny before once again looking up at me, worry colouring his marred face, to ask "And… my broodwife?"

"Whalhnek is alive… but I cannot recommend you visiting her. The healers are seeing to her currently. If you still don't wish to press charges for the loss of your eye, she'll be free to go once they certify her as safe to be so."

"Another relief!" he sighs.

At this point, my halfuncle joins us and, clearly detecting the infants lack of proper care by their smell, remarks "Whoof! Quite a noisy and odoriferous delivery you've brought, Madam Regent(!)"

"Ah… yes… Apologies, Uncle. We did discuss attempting to change them ourselves but it quickly became apparent that none of us really knew how and, with the weather, we didn't really have the time to figure it out."

"You made the correct decision. Cold is doubly lethal to little ones. Far better to bring them here to those who know what we're doing than dally about trying to figure it out yourselves!… If you just put them down on the ground, the boys and I will have them washed, changed and fed in no time at all!"

"Thank you, Uncle." I say, appreciatively, putting the pallet down and turning to leave.

I step outside (immediately cursing Whalhnek again for the holes she put in my clothing as the cold bites at my flesh through my armour) and make my way up to the Palace Tent.

Approaching, I see another biped emerging from the doorway, around half the height of the healers, with green skin, dressed in silk and with a short, green-grey beard and hair.

"Councillor Mek… Something you need?" I address the one eyed man

"Yes, [Regent]." answers the Twigg "The embassy called to say they're there and ready to meet you. I told them you were busy with Whalhnek and they said to call back when you were available. The rest of the council are ready whenever you are."

"Of course…" I sigh "…I shall need a little while to wash myself and change clothes. I'll give them a call when I'm [15 minutes] from ready to receive them, Councillor."

"I'll let the others know, [Regent]…" he politely acknowledges.

I feel a brief moment of doubt about whether keeping such important guests waiting is prudent before reaffirming my decision that, however imprudent it is, meeting them in tattered and stinking clothes would be even more so(!)

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

---later---

Freshly washed, dressed in an insulated, orange silk coat and holding an ironwood sceptre of command, four thanatite blades crowning its head, I sit on the right side of Khr'kowan's throne pedestal, the space to my right empty (as it has been since she and her broodhusband left our world for the [galactic] capital.)

Lining the outside of the throneroom sit the thirty three strong council she assembled to advise me in her absence.

Twenty two of the councillors are Vrakhand men with only ten women and a single Twigg.

Such an imbalance was necessary to allay the fears of all those who were leery of such a long time that I would be both First Woman and acting as Regent.

Men's long lives grant wisdom and their frailty engenders a prudence and humility within them.

This makes them ideal for statecraft.

Women's strong bodies grant us might, our minds granting ferocity and decisiveness!

This makes us ideal as warriors.

It's quite understandable that there would be unease around a single person heading both government and military of the [empire]'s hegemonic realm, the fact of my femininity only deepening the mistrust… As many as there may be who dislike the era of Khawekhan hegemony, absolutely NO one is clamouring for a return to the worst abuses women were able to commit during the warring realms period, where might made right!

Hopefully, with their arrival, I will soon be able to step back as Regent and allow my sister to resume her role as [Empress] from halfway across the [galaxy].

At least then, there will once again be two leaders of Khawekh, even if we are both women…

I hear the rhythmic clomping of four feet as they approach the door curtains.

A chill draft immediately reaches me as they are pulled aside.

Two Terrans step in.

One is tall for their kind. Roughly between Hatathli and (as best I recall it) Taylor's height.

His skin is pale, his brown hair is short and neat, his nose proud and aquiline

His gentle expression notwithstanding, I see a warrior's fire burning within his placid brown eyes.

His chest is bulky and his thick, muscular, pale arms are bare even in this cold! Was his outer layer somehow destroyed on their way here?!

The other is a woman.

She is among the shorter Terrans I've seen, only being slightly taller than the one called 'Mouse', as well as being the darkest skinned of them I've ever seen either in person or in images.

She wears a crisp, peaked mariner's cap, a voluminous, jet black ponytail protruding beneath it at the back. The headdress, I know, marks her out as a commander in their navy.

Both of them wear formfitting matching uniforms in the richest blues I've ever seen, the only distinctions between them being their headgear and the presence of a sleeve piece on the woman, to cover her arms, an ample chest protruding beneath it as it passes over her shoulders.

Her face would seem quite adorably masculinely featured if not for the expression it wears, the bodylanguage of the figure supporting it and context of knowing just who this woman is…

As it stands, she is instead quite unsettling as she marches across the throneroom, flanked by her far more physically imposing subordinate and an unreadable expression on her face!

The pair reach the base of the pedestal and stop, the man's two feet together, the woman's a shoulderwidth apart.

She looks up at me from beneath the front brim of her cap, her face still betraying nothing of her intention.

I'm about to break the silence when her square, white teeth are bared at me in a grin.

With a precisely drilled motion, the pair both doff their caps and tuck them neatly under their respective left arms in a fairly unmistakeable gesture of respect.

"Madam Regent!" greets the grinning woman with all the warmth one might give a sibling returning home after years abroad "An honour, a privilege and a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am! Likewise, councillors all!"

"I bid you welcome in return, Ma'am. Might I presume you are the admiral?" I say, cautiously, not allowing her sudden joviality to unseat the menacing presence she was before from my mind.

"Right you are, Madam Regent!" thunders the small Terran in her roomfilling voice "Admiral Sindisiwe 'Roar' Ledwaba; Lioness of KwaZulu Esisha… mistress of the UTCS dreadnought Wrath… commander of the samaZulu 5th Fleet… heroine of the Battle of Nova Britannia and so on and so forth(!) At your service!" with such supreme confidence that I almost don't notice the relative immodesty of a woman listing her own accolades for herself "And this…" she gives a crisp gesture to the chest of the man behind her "…is my husband and second in command, Vice Admiral Aaron 'Triple C' Friedman… Our GU counterparts send their apologies for their absence but, with their flagship being an Ulat vessel, they deemed it imprudent to make the journey here in light of the way cold effects ectotherms. You've met Commodore Yakchutt before though, haven't you?… I must say, as striking as your beautiful planet is in Winter, I think I'll be enjoying your 9 month long Summers more(!)"

Frowning at the pale skinned man, I venture "Yes, speaking of the temperature, is Vice Admiral Friedman in need of a second layer to cover his arms? I could have such brought here for him if that were necessary?"

"*HAHAHA*!" cackles the small Terran "Don't you worry about him!… He's Britannian… They've got a weird masculinity thing on that planet about not admitting that sleeves are necessary until it's about -30°C(!!!)"

"You're oversimplifying somewhat, Sindy." speaks the man allowing me to hear his voice for the first time.

It's deep and penetrating, though smooth, calm and low.

His accent is rendered by the translator as that of a well spoken older man.

His face remains placid with only the slightest tinge of mirth as he continues "It's not common to all Britannians, it's simply that, having spent the majority of my life in the Arctic region, minus 5 feels more refreshingly bracing than 'cold'. Sleeves would be quite unnecessary for me."

"Yes, yes(!) You don't feel the cold(!) Very manly, my love(!)" grins the woman, goodnaturedly.

Looking to steer the conversation back on course, I clear my throat to ask "*ahem*…Admiral Ledwaba… I believe we all wish to know… what news do you bring from the world of Citadel?"

"Oh! Of course!… I should've led with that, shouldn't I!" she straightens her back and looks over my head to announce "Both species, the Vrakhand and Twigg of Graom-Wakhkort, had, prior to my departure, been granted full and unrestricted membership of the Galactic Union with all members of both species becoming, in that moment, full and outright citizens thereto!" in a formal, military tone.

A thrill swoops through my stomach at her words as excited whispering passes between various councilmembers.

I see the old Twigg man bare his fangs in a smile at hearing the news of his own people's acceptance.

"Your sister and Representative Vigg were, last I heard, in the process of setting up your dual embassies in shared premises on Citadel's ODR compound." beams the commanding woman with satisfaction.

"This is glad news indeed, Admiral! I thank you from the bottom of my heart for delivering it! Do you know when it might be possible to deploy the [ansible] and speak to her?"

She nods her head once and says "Of course, Madam Regent. The buoy's ready to go at any time but, since the moment your system goes from not having FTLcoms to having them is going to be something of a historic one, the ambassadors think it'd be best if we invited up a selection of Vrakhand and Twigg to watch it being launched. I assume you'd like to be up there to see it yourself?"

Excited by the prospect of seeing the interior of a Terran warship, I answer "Very much so, Admiral!"

"Good…" she grins "…then I'll let the embassy know to start making the calls and we'll send down shuttles to pick all of you up for it in a few days. For the meantime, Madam Regent, there are other matters I'd like to discuss."

"What other matters would those be, Admiral?" I ask, quizzically.

"Well… It's a little awkward but… I've got about 50,000 sailors aboard my fleet who've all just gone six months without their feet touching the surface of a planet… I was hoping we could work something out for their shoreleave… that doesn't end up with you guys feeling like you're being invaded, of course(!)… I'm thinking of letting them come down in shifts, spreading them out across multiple realms and limiting them to daylight hours… Does something like that sound like it could work to you?"

I laugh "Of course, Admiral!… We will be happy to accommodate your sailors!"

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