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With thanks as always to Arthue "Aethan" French, whose cabin-boy/space pirates story, "A Treasure, Freely Given" inspired my own tale. Characters and settings based upon his original work appear here by his kind permission.

Interlude, Sky Range Dark Sky Reserve, Halivarr

Spring in the Great Green Rift of Halivarr's northern landmass is a fragrant time. Shaggy conifers that filled the stony gullies leading down off the plateau were putting out vividly yellow-green shoots, wild fruiting trees were setting in the lower reaches, but some up at the Sky Range were just opening their blossoms that morning. I knew how they felt.

The air was perhaps a bit brisk for outdoor showers, but Dani assured us we wouldn't have to risk it. The low building of timber and stone had indoor facilities as well for park guests out of season (Dani & Tobi's stay was early, as far as the park's expected seasonal campground attendance was concerned, but the Sky Range is in fact open year-round).

We had the place to ourselves. I might be sorry to let go of Dani's scent from the previous night, but since my last good scrub had been groundside on Phojla, I had to admit I was overdue. I saw Tobi watching curiously as Iawrrl and I fitted the brushes to our hands.

"Thick fur, as you two should know, now," I explained with a wink. Halivarri fur is dense, but short and soft. The boys had bars of body-cleanser from their camp kits. Iawrrl and I loaded our brushes with a viscous, slow-release shampoo with no detectable scent, that we'd ordered specially from Gvengg. (The stuff the Scout Service routinely provides field personnel was awful enough on Humans, and also irritated our skin.)

There were four spray-heads in our bay, so each of us adjusted the temperature to what we each preferred - as hot as it came for Iawrrl and I, tepid for Tobi, and Dani apparently took cold showers, only, as a part of his physical fitness regimen. I might not share his tastes, but I couldn't argue with results.

"You boys are way less fragile than we took you for," Iawrrl was saying, thinking along similar lines. "And you may be sorry I noticed, when it comes to the gymnbot. But I underestimated you two, and for that I am sorry."

"Write that down." I recommended. "But he's right. To Vargyr, you look small - you ARE small - but even with my mind on other things, I noticed last night how sturdy and solid you both are." I was luxuriating in actual hot water - fresher fluid is nothing I much enjoy, which was part of the reason I hadn't used ours except for pissing in for a few weeks - scrubbing down through my fur to scratch in places I had not been in a while.

"Turn around - I'll get your back," Iawrrl offered. Tobi had been really good for his mood. Dani had done plenty for mine, too. I gave Iawrrl my back and looked them over closely to see how they were doing.

"Well, took you long enough to notice," said Tobi, teasingly. I don't think I've described Halivarri more than in passing, but I gave Tobi a long look, then, so I'll talk about it, now. Dani is stocky, for a 'Varri, though that doesn't say much. Tobi is smaller, but perhaps more respresentative (I wouldn't get to meet Hali, let alone rassle around with him naked, for some time yet, but height aside, he has Tobi's build).

Males (I have never seen a female 'Varri undressed) have builds I am mistakenly tempted to call "boyish" for their size and formidable cuteness, but actually have maturely masculine, broader-shouldered and broader-chested, narrower-hipped frames. Even in top condition, and soaking wet, their musculature is sleek and rounded, rather than bulky and chiseled. Their genitals are proportionately large and prominent. Their ears are upright like ours, but rounder, proportionally larger, and expressive. Their tails are long, semi-prehensile, furred along their length, and end in an adorable tuft. And also highly expressive, spreading their scent and drawing the eye to their backsides - high, tight, round, firm and adorably, eminently fuckable.

I was getting a stiffie from looking, and briefly considered a plunge under Dani's shower, but the need was allayed by Iawrrl rough-brushing a mat of fur from my undertail, provoking a sharp protest. "Don't be such a sissy," he growled, but his hands were gentle - even tender - after that.

The 'Varri boys seemed to be in good spirits, perhaps quieter this morning, with more focus on each other than on us. Tobi would get nowhere near the cold spray Dani was subjecting himself to (it was the first time I had seen him less than half-hard since we'd landed), but the two were sharing their eerie, wordless cameraderie.

"No regrets, I hope?" I didn't think the boys were unhappy with us, but we were still learning their moods. So were they - their pairbond was only something like four or five days old. I actually felt bad for having intruded ourselves, for once (but not since, as it has never in fact been a difficulty - just an occasionally interesting complication).

"No, not at all!" Tobi seemed surprised at the question.

"It's just something both of us had imagined, together, for a long time," Dani explained. "And now have done, together. So we have that to ...not need to actually discuss, because we both just know." Tobi nodded. "But no, no regrets, Sirs."

Iawrrl made a woo-woo hand gesture where the boys couldn't see it. I stepped on his foot.

"Now, since we've been seen in your company," Iawrrl interrupted, following some train of his own thought which he had decided to share with us, "it's probably for the best we head right on into town to make ourselves known. We'll bring your papers around to your school, and see if we can talk to your Ms. Dasker about the whole telescope project."

"'The Vargyr came down and took them away and that's the last that anyone's seen of them' is really an impression we'd prefer to avoid," I agreed.

"It's what, Twosday?" Tobi asked. No one was all that sure, but it didn't matter. "She has office hours all week. Parent conferences and stuff. She should be around." Dani nodded.

So we finished our scrub-down, and got dressed in uniforms that retained at least sentimental vestiges of the previous days without being offensive to public decency. I didn't at all mind the idea of my fur picking up a scent-layer of Halivarr in spring. I'd rub Dani all over my body, later.

We'd decided not to bring the telescope itself down with us. While portable, it was a delicate instrument and safer on Seeker. But Dani had a copy of the folder of specs and things they'd made for the fair, and Iawrrl already had initial schematics for his proposed dorsal mount.

"And I wouldn't say no to at least a drive-by of the Aerodrome, if it's close." Iawrrl looked to the boys.

"It's not far," said Tobi. "About fifteen kay down the road the school is on."

"Anything further out that same way that might be of interest to us?" I asked.

"Not much, unless you're shopping for tractors or have a big thing for hydro plants." Tobi seemed to find either likelihood doubtful.

"Further out, it joins a bigger road to the nearest big town, with the HASA campus for this district, if you want a tertiary school as well," Dani added.

We didn't, particularly. But it gave us a feel for the sort of regional draw our rah-rah spaceflight booster was likely to have. We loaded into the airsled and headed out, by ground road for the scenic route. Lovely day for a drive.

* * *

"Dani! Tobi! Come in! We thought you two would be gone all week!" Idavanska Dasker greeted the boys fondly, with attentive interest rather than concern.

She wore tidy but not particularly stylish clothing on a figure that had clearly had many children, and been comfortable for them to hug. Her fur was cream-colored like Tobi's, but with fewer spots or stripes, more subtly marked. Her eyes flicked to a timepiece on the wall. "I can give you until lunch. I don't imagine you two just popped in to say hi." Her cheery demeanor faltered a little, however, when she caught sight of Iawrrl and me.

"It's okay, Ms. Dasker," said Dani. "They're with us. Warrant Officers Iawrrl and Langrr of the Scout Vessel Seeker. They're using the Sky Range to take some readings of the Varr System."

"Ma'am." Iawrrl at his most carefully polite says as little as possible. We displayed credentials to substantiate Dani's claim.

"No cause for alarm," I said calmingly. "But we did need these two to turn off their radioscope for us, and they've been kind enough to lend us a hand with our survey. They've been a big help."

"Oh! Well, I am sure they have." She managed a brave smile, but still looked faintly unsettled.

"This isn't disciplinary," Iawrrl assured. "Nothing wrong with anything these two were getting up to out there, as far as the IISSCC is concerned. If fact, we approve. Heartily." Heh. "Our equipment is pretty sensitive. These two frankly impressed us with just how well prepared they were to handle it. More than able. I'd go far as to say 'gifted', even." Reel it in, Iawrrl. "You can relax. Neither boy is in trouble."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that, with these two." She gave the cadets a proud smile. "No - I was just startled to see Vargyr. And don't take that the wrong way, please." She was careful to avoid even the appearance of offense. "But enough about my distractions," she moved on briskly. "What can I do for you?"

"Far from being in trouble, we want to commend these two on that optical/radio telescope of theirs," I put in. "Impressive work. We understand you were involved in the project?" I moved on without digging any further into what was worrying her, because I was pretty sure I could guess, and we didn't want to discuss that, here. Buildings like this are full of safety monitors and impossible for intel security.

"In an advisory role only," she confirmed carefully. "I may have consulted in some depth regarding the imaging feedback systems, but these two did all the calibrations and balanced the actual pickups themselves, and deserve full credit for all their hard work. It was their own project, start to finish."

"We don't doubt it," said Iawrrl. "And between that, and other aptitudes that we have had a chance to assess for ourselves, we have jointly passed them as fully qualified to enlist. We've brought all the paperwork, to settle their accounts with the school office." He nodded to me and the folder I was carrying ("OFFICIAL", "CONFIDENTIAL").

"We were actually hoping you could help us with something else," I segued deftly, before the topic of Scout Service Recruitment could lead us into deeper waters. Dani stepped up, opening the folder he carried, instead, as we sketched out our ideas for a promotional event at the Aerodrome, with the boy's telescope as the featured attraction on our own actual Scout craft.

"The boys thought you would know who here or at the Science and Technology Expo might be interested in this, or helping out with publicity. Dani has already given us the best liason with the Halivarri Guides we could ask for." I patted his shoulder and thought of cold water down my back so my trousers didn't go extra snug.

"I can certainly do that," she nodded. "In fact, I'd be happy to. I'll tell you what. I have the rest my workday to get through, here. But why don't all four of you come over after, to my place, for dinner. Dani can tell you where to find us. His brother works with my husband."

"If you are sure that won't be an imposition on short notice?" I asked for politeness' sake.

"Not at all. We're having a farmhand stew." The boys looked pleased, so I figured we were safe. "I'll just call home during lunch and tell Mr. Dasker to cube up some more meat, to stretch."

"We'll look forward to it," said Iawrrl. "In the mean time, once we are done here, we will continue on to the Aerodrome, to see what facilities they have available, and let you get on with your day, Ma'am. We'll be round to your place, eighteen hundred." The arrangement seemed satisfactory.

"Thanks, Ms. Dasker," said both boys on the way out.

"Thank you, both, for thinking of me," she returned, "during what I know must be such an exciting time for you." She gave them a proud, knowing smile. "Now, scoot, and I'll see you at supper."

* * *

The school office showed no great surprise at our abrupt appearance, and gave us no trouble. Apparently, it is common enough for a freshly-forged pairbond to launch senior students into surprising trajectories that the lyceum had practiced proceedures in place for that sort of thing.

Both boys had in fact already met all requirements to pass their courses (Ms. Dasker would confide that she thought Tobi might have benefitted from a little more work on his calculus over the final weeks, and offered to make herself available for coaching over the holo). They had already also earned more than adequate scores at a previous sitting for the HASA admission exams, and were excused from the upcoming sessions being offered as a last chance for the slowpokes to catch up.

The registrar added the boy's academic transcripts to their enlistment packages, which we sealed and certified, and then signed off on paperwork of our own, taking charge of these to send on to the appropriate Consular officials for us, and would notify the cadets' families as well. We were much obliged. We were out of there and back in the sled in five minutes.

* * *

The Aerodrome was not far. We could see it down between the hills, long before we reached it. Conn tower, meteorological radars, windsocks by the landing fields. It was a typical, functional smallport, supporting local medical evac and search and rescue responders as well as light commerce, shuttle services to the Downport, and atmospheric aviation hobbyists.

While doubtless the least attractive installation we'd yet seen on Halivarr (even the lyceum school had offered pleasantly shaded arcades and stone-and-hammerbeam charm in its vaulted entry), the 'Varri touch was still present, here in the guise of a tree-line along the road frontage, river reeds and other wetlands flora along drainage culverts and retaining ponds, and berms for noise abatement or flood control well-covered in hardy prairie plantings of low shrubs, tall grasses and wildflowers.

Even take-off strips and landing pads were planted, between the cleated durametal grating, with something evergreen, ground-covering, incredibly tenacious, and tolerant of exhaust emmissions, so that rather than a flat, gray plascrete waste, the airfield looked more like a playing court for some incredibly long-range sort of high-endurance lawn-bowling.

The boys knew at least the public areas well - their Guides troop had spent a season building and programming drone craft, and taking an air safety certification class here in connection with that. We were happy to let them take lead, not least for the scenic view they offered us with their tails held high, tufted tops tossing and occasionally touching, indicating their confidence and excitement to be seen, attired as they were, leading us, attired as we were, around.

Not that there was much of an audience. Lunch hour on Foursday (Tobi had misplaced two days, somewhere) is not a time of brisk activity at most smallports, even the ones that are smuggler's dens, which this one plainly wasn't. But our boys found a receptionist, who called another receptionist, who regretted that Base Chief Brynner was at lunch, but would be more than happy to meet us, if we could come by his office in an hour. We assured that we could.

We were momentarily at a loss as what to do with the wait. Iawrrl observed that the sensible thing would be to have our own lunch as well, and asked whether there were somewhere we could eat. Tobi admitted that there was a cafeteria with about the same enthusiasm he'd had for tractor dealerships and the hydro plant, which ought to have warned us, but the boys agreed to show us the place, perhaps thinking of the ship bread, box meals and algaprote purée they had previously seen us eat.

I am exaggerating a little. The food wasn't precisely bad. But it would be overly kind to say that it was good. It was institutional fare, the kind served at Grade C starport canteens, or to spacefarers travelling economy class, just above the ones shipped frozen as cargo. Comapared to Tobi's meal of old family standbys made with fresh, local produce, it was about as appealing as plassboard or insulating foam. But it filled and possibly even nourished us, and used up some time.

The cafeteria turned out to be where everyone else in the place was at that hour, having also decided to take their chances on lunch, but it wasn't what you'd call crowded. Customers were mostly 'Varri, with a smattering of other 'Lifted - a couple of Bullocs drinking caff and swapping flecs to look at on their tablet readers, and a brashly made-up Donk female staffing the counter.

(When we were seated, well out of her earshot, the boys wagered among themselves whether her mane were her own, made to be frizzy and platinum blonde through some series of intentional processes, or a wig left behind by a previous customer, which she had for some reason decided to wear.)

Iawrrl was just eyeing the restrooms sign with that signature gleam in his eye when we noticed a Sus-Hawg, entirely respectable in business attire, wandering that way with a news-sheet, apparently for a protracted visit. So much for that idea. The boys, and we with them, attracted more notice, here - one Bulloc nudged his companion to look our way. Which I thought nothing of until my wrist-unit gave me a ping. I checked the display.

"Seeker's picking up news," I told the others. "I won't have details until I can look over the intercepts in person, but something has come in that my algos think could have to do with your friend," I explained, using no names. When I looked back, the Bullocs were still looking our way, sharing remarks inaudible to us but amusing to them. They noticed me noticing, gave a placatory "no trouble" gesture, and turned back to their caff and their flec-readers.

"Check it when we get back," said Iawrrl. He was minimally interested in what my wrist-comm had to say, and not at all in the Bullocs. "Look out there - what do you think?" The cafeteria was on an upper level mezzanine with the inevitable wall of floor to ceiling windows looking out over the airfield. I had to look past the more immediate spectacle of service bots, Donks, and Bullocs tending a small freighter to see what it was that held his attention.

Across the way, tucked back among abatement berms and flood control, was a small landing pad under a half-cylinder open roof. Maintenance equipment and quiescent service-bots could be dimly distinguished within. It was far too small for even a modest freighter, and both too open and too small for air rescue or sky-ambulance use, but it would do just fine for Seeker.

If all we had hoped to do was tack on the boys' scope to a flat spot on the hull and wire it in for remote operation from a console onboard, we could handle that easily enough from our Sky Range camp. But Iawrrl was envisioning something more ambitious which, while technically feasible with what we had on hand, wouldn't be pretty and would considerably deplete supplies we routinely carried on Seeker for emergency repairs, as a basic safety precaution.

For the sort of job Iawrrl would prefer to make of it, especially as it involved critical matters like hull integrity and cabin pressure, a repair and refit dock here would be far better. It might be expensive, but we were sitting on six years of joint special duty pay that we'd had nothing to spend on other than special soap, mediocre beer and holoporn, and we might be able to spin our project in a way that the smallport charged us as Halivarri Guides, rather than fleeceable offworlders.

Or we could just bill it to Operations Division and make it Space Command's problem - which is what we ended up doing, as a Academy Auxiliary educational outreach program undertaken under our current rating as instructors, which they might tut over but wouldn't challenge, and would explain why we were taking on recruits.

I caught the Bullocs' attention again on our way out and, to show no hard feelings, gave a toothy grin as I invited their eyes to follow mine to the rear prospect of both boys, Iawrrl's arm around their shoulders, with tails high and proud. Tobi absently rubbed at his trainer bead. I scratched above my junk, and gave them a wink. Maybe we'd see them later.

* * *

"Danivath, Tobissar, you are both looking well. Come on in, and introduce your friends." Base Chief Brynner was a mature 'Varri of indeterminate age, mildly officious in the way of provincial authorites. The boys had told us that he was pairbonded to a male Donk, the smallport's cargo-workers union rep, which might also go a ways to explaining a certain clenched-cheeked manner about him.

We made our introductions, received firm handshakes, with firm assurance that the Aerodrome was pleased to be of service to the IISSCC. He was staunchly supportive of the Guides Program, noted Dani and Tobi as exemplary proof of its merits, and was more than happy to assist in any way he could.

Iawrrl and I took a step back, to let Tobi and Dani present. Fuck, they looked good from behind. Dani opened his folder again, explaining the proposed refit of our Scout craft with their telescope (which the Base Chief was familiar with already, being exactly the sort to firmly approve of regional science fairs, and to show that approval by attending).

Brynner was hooked. His base would be proud to host a public expo of our refit. It would be good promotional material for the smallport, as well. He showed us some holos of a previous refit undertaken at their facilities, this one of a sky-yacht belonging to a somewhat down-at-heel Leonid courtier with only a single consort, who rather detracted from any promotional value by sucking on his own tail in the holos of him showing it off.

We were told that Iawrrl's preferred pad and hangar could be ours first thing, Oneday morning, after the last of it's expected arrivals had departed. Brynner finished by commending our boys on their enlistment, which he exhorted them to bring their best.

Iawrrl gave the Base Chief a suitably firm assurance that we felt lucky the cadets had asked us to train them, personally. They had already shown themselves to be quick learners, able and eager, and we'd both be happy to have them serving under us directly, in all capacities that their aptitudes allowed.

We shook his hand, again, and followed the boys out.

* * *

Tempting as it was to stick to ground roads, it was quicker to fly back direct. I wanted to at least see what kind of intel our comms had sifted from the wind, before we headed back out to get to the Daskers by 18:00, and I'd need a bit of time. The boys seemed to feel the trip had been well spent, and even Iawrrl agreed it has been productive. I was just getting to work.

Turns out that what Seeker had were some holos and clips that had come into the system on the Bulloc freighter. These weren't transmissions, but data packages carried in the freighter's buy bin, available to anyone interested in them for a fee. I'd approved this kind of purchase for anything fitting certain params, and Seeker had already archived the data.

There were a couple fairly long bits of holographic footage, apparently from security surveillance monitors on a starcruiser I was fairly certain was the Gvadakoungg. Also, some still holos of a single subject, taken to document a disciplinary hearing.

I would want to give all of this a much deeper look, later, but did not have time to dive in, now, or we were going to be late to dinner. But I was reasonably sure I knew what flecs the Bullocs had been smirking over, and suspected I would be finding out what kind of trouble Hali had gotten himself into. Rather than distract the boys into rampant speculation, I kept all this to myself, for the time being.

"Anything good?" Iawrrl asked. I'd have to tell him something, in any case.

"I think so. We'll all want a look through this, when we come back. I don't want to get into it, now, or I won't be thinking of anything else at dinner. Let's go see Ma and Pa. This will keep."

* * *

"Won't you all just come on in," Ms. Dasker had changed into somewhat nicer clothes, a blazer over a blouse, but was her same cheery self, until the door closed, and she had engaged a no-calls device beside it, assuring privacy. "And please, tell me what this is actually about. I didn't ask at the school because I could tell you wanted me not to."

Not unfriendly, exactly, but much sharper than Every Kid's Favorite Math Teacher.

"It's about Hali," said Dani, at the same time I was saying, "We are here about your son." She replied to Dani.

"Why don't you let these two explain themselves. You and Tobi can go give Mr. Dasker a hand getting supper on the table, please. We'll join you shortly." The boys did wait for a confirmatory nod from Iawrrl, but I didn't get the feeling she had much trouble maintaining a disciplined classroom. She guided us into a sitting room with some deep chairs that weren't that much too short for us. We sat.

"Ms. Dasker, ma'am," Iawrrl began.

"Vanska, please." She seated herself very upright, on a chair with a pretty, embroidered seat.

"Vanska, we surmise you have had word regarding Cadet Halliday Dasker. Regardless of what that word said, we have reason to believe we two are better informed of his status - alive, healthy, and at liberty - if not of his precise whereabouts."

"I had word - my husband and I did - via authenticated holocall from a Consular official at the Downport, of a hostage situation which they hoped would be resolved."

"Any indication who they believed was responsible?" I asked. "And please do not be afraid we will take offense."

"No, I could tell, when I was startled to see you with the boys, you knew something of all this. And all we were told was Vargyr corsairs, raiding his starliner."

"Ma'am - Vanska - this is vitally importance to keep in confidence. That account is true as far as it goes. But it was no ordinary corsair raid. Also, your son is not a hostage. He has formed a bond with a person of high standing, and been invited to join the crew."

"Heavens! And thank goodness - I was a little worried. Please, tell me all you can. Who are you, really? Or is that rude to ask."

"Not rude at all. We really are Scouts, and warranted instructors, but only very recently, under circumstances that still don't make much sense to us." I knew Iawrrl felt too bad about all this to be easy talking, so I explained. "I am a data slicer and comms guy. Iawrrl is a structural engineer, supply & logistics, and fixit guy. That's been our job, for six years at Advance Sensor Station Phojla."

"Phojla! That is the system Hali was bound for," she said. "The Academy, there."

"Well, here is where things get odd, because their isn't one - or wasn't, until we got served papers making us Warrant Officers and Academy Auxiliaries, and our base - a dead-end outpost on a comfortless, frozen rock - an Auxiliary Scout Academy Campus with an enrollment of one. That's how we first heard of your son."

"First heard," she repeated. We nodded. "Let's come back to that in a moment. I am still trying to understand what use he could be as the sole cadet at an advance sensor station."

"None at all. In fact, the entire facility was initially inteded to be wholly automated. Iawrrl and I were assigned there about six years back, as part of the shake-up at Space Command Satevis following..."

She cut me off. "The Gvadakoungg Mutiny. Of course."

Iawrrl nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"And this station has how many Scouts, total?" One can see service bases listed in any sector gazeteer, but any specific data is classified.

"Two, ma'am." Iawrrl wasn't beating around the bush. "Currently, zero, since we felt we could be more useful here."

"Doing what, precisely?" She wasn't buying the radiation emissions story. Iawrrl opted for truth.

"Attempting to disarm a trap, before it can be baited let alone sprung, intended to lure the Gvadakoungg into the open."

"You are partisans of this Captain Fangg, I suppose?"

"Reasonable assumption, ma'am, but wrong. Up until twenty-odd days ago we had no intention of crossing Space Command except in routine ways like creative accounting to Operations Division."

"Why would someone like Captain Fangg fall into this trap? What is the bait?"

"Ma'am, if we're right about this, you are. Captain Fangg, we have reason to believe, is now pairbonded with your son."

* * *

The boys had taken the opportunity to fill in Pa Dasker on the reason for our visit, although with some omissions as they held themselved honor bound not to name our second source. (For our part, Iawrrl and I are still not sure what Mr. Dasker's given name is. Tobi and Dani find this sufficiently amusing that the little fuckers only make up joke answers and won't tell us, and so far we haven't been back to ask.)

Pa Dasker's main takeaway from this was that we had come to tell him that Hali was happily pairbonded. "I told you he'd be fine, Ma," he said over supper. "His special someone was out there, and he knew it. He didn't know he knew, but he did." I am not sure that any other aspect of the larger situation, including the part where he was tied up and we were being shot at, ever made any other lasting impression.

Not that Pa Dasker wasn't all there, but he has a sort of quiet, self-contained bearing that many breeding Halivarri males develop, where his instinct is turned to his spouse and nurturing his brood to exclusion of almost all other concerns. Now an empty-nester, he devoted most of his attention to his greenhouse nursery and landscape gardening business, and left high matters and affairs of state to his formidable wife.

"Oh, and Ma, the holo's out again. I tried to reach Dani's brother to say he'd come by, and couldn't get a thing." Vanska promised she'd take a look.

* * *

Vanska politely steered the conversation to ascertain that yes, we really were refitting Seeker to accommodate the cadet's telescope, and really would welcome her assistance in any capacity in which she felt she could be helpful. We gave her Base Chief Brynner's receptionist's contact data, as well as a digitized copy of Dani's scope stuff and Iawrrl's proposed design on a flec, if it would help.

Pa Dasker thought he had some potted trees and some succulents he swore would thrive at the Aerodrome, and which he felt might cheer up the hangar entrance for the event, and offered these on loan. (He made good on his offer, and they did help make the place look more welcoming for our event, but played no key role, and I won't mention it again. We thanked him profusely at the time, and tipped Dani's brother, who did the actual work).

We gave Ma Dasker the legit transciever codes to Seeker, as well, allowing her to get in touch for as long as we were anywhere Halivarr Telesat Net could reach (the asteroid mining colonies, if you are curious), or further if she could get time on a holowave transmitter (usually reserved for priority transmissions and/or official use, and therefore prohibitively expensive).

After the meal (which was very good), the boys helped Pa clear the table and wash up - a process involving hot water, detergent, and towel-drying at the Dasker homestead. Halivarri prefer manual tasks, for family bonding, over mechanized convenience. Vanska and Iawrrl and I withdrew to the sitting room again for a cup of caff.

"Hali is my youngest, as you know," said Vanska, "and of course I've worried for him. But I've raised five daughters and nine sons, and by the time he was grown, I knew he was meant for a wider world. He isn't our first spacefarer. And this isn't our first crisis, either, if it comes to that."

"Surely Halivarr wasn't involved in the Spindrift Uprisings," said Iawrrl, referring to the last notable period of scattered violence in the driftward reaches of that sector of space.

"No, not directly. The Imperium is very jealous of its starport and tourism revenues, but otherwise hardly a presence here at all. Technically, we aren't subjects or tributaries, but a protectorate. Port fees aside - which we don't pay on agricultural export, mind - there's nothing to rise against."

Iawrrl nodded. Halivarr had, over various galactic eras, been obscure, remote, or known only to legend, but never a theater of war. "What about indirectly?" he asked. Iawrrl doesn't miss much.

"Raiders. Corsairs. Slavers. Not organized Vargyr bands, you understand, or even true cartels so far as we ever learned. Just gangs, criminals, opportunists. Mixed bands of 'Lifted and Humans. Which brought others in their wake - mercenaries, sky-marshalls, bounty hunters."

We nodded. Action media aside, the Frontier really does feature such types. Whether Scouts get counted among them varies depending on prevailing local attitudes and how Scouts have conducted themselves recently in any given region.

"And your trouble, here? It may be helpful to us, to better appreciate your preparedness," Iawrrl explained.

Vanska gave a cheery, knowing smile. "Oh, I don't mind telling, if it will help you to stop underestimating us."

"Er, sorry," I put in awkwardly. "That's a Vargyr thing. If it helps, really we just mostly overestimate ourselves."

She laughed. "Good of you to say so. But really, I don't feel any urgent need to convince you. I imagine Dani and Tobi will manage that, without any help from me." This lady was sharp.

"We've already apologized to them," Iawrrl admitted.

"That's big of you," she replied with a sparkle in her eye. "But I was telling about the troubles." We nodded that we were interested to hear about it.

"Hali was nine or ten, and it was him, two of our girls, and his next oldest brother, Jaxivver, who ought to have been out by then, but hadn't bonded to anyone yet. His rut was trying to come on anyway, and he was trouble. Had to get him a private line on the holonet for the things he was looking at, and the smell of him! He ought to have been off to HASA or the resorts, but Pa didn't want him to feel pushed out and I suppose he was right. Hali adored him."

Iawrrl looked like he was wondering if we weren't getting side-tracked into family reminiscence, but my imagination was taking me to places I was enjoying. I crossed my legs, as Vanska Dasker got back to the point.

"I suppose it was Jaxx, out on one of his aimless rambles - he would get so terribly restless - that caught some raiders' attention. The things he would wear! Just as well he was done with school, or they'd have had to make him put a paper coverall over it to be decent." I was liking Jaxx better and better.

"Well, we didn't see the fight - just some flashes the greenhouse monitors picked up, over the ravine where the creek runs down to the river. But one evening, just after dusk, home comes Jaxivver, half-carrying this male Human - mercenary type - with these implants and an artificial arm that were shorting out and giving him what looked like siezures. Well!" She paused to sip her caff and catch her breath.

"Medical cybernetics - prosthetics or enhancements - are not my field. But I had my little toolkit, and Jaxx was right in thinking I could at least cut out the systems that were hurting the poor man, and I did," she went on. "And cleaned up some cuts and bruises. Jaxx wasn't hurt - just terribly concerned for this vagabond soldier. I think I already guessed then. What was that man's name?"

She shook her head and went on. "Anyway, he was well enough to eat something, shortly after, and then Jaxx took him to his room to lie down. Or at least that's what he said. We'd verified that the man was bonded, a licensed mercenary and sort of freelance marshall for hire among a lot of little systems out here, and no outstanding trouble with the Imperium, hunting slavers on spec."

Iawrrl and I nodded, and kept our thoughts to ourselves, not to trouble her with knowing how thin a line that could be, between slaver-hunter and slaver. Thankfully not an issue in Antares Sector since things had settled down, five or six years ago.

"Well, we didn't see either of them again until after lunch time, not that either of them had gotten a wink of sleep, but I suppose by then they were hungry. Pairbonded, of course, and little Hali making a pest of himself with questions while the two of them just shoveled down stack after stack of griddle-cakes in their underwear. And just when I thought I'd gotten him to leave his brother and the poor man alone, Hali comes back in his underwear and wouldn't wear anything else, all day!" We laughed with her.

"So, after a day or two to recover, and determine that the raiders had moved on, this mercenary was taking off, again, and Jaxivver with him. But he left the Souvenir, telling Pa and me to look after our brood, or they'd be after Hali next. We hear from Jaxx now and again, and I should worry, because he's still trouble and won't tell me much. We did hear that his bond-mate died, saving his life again, about a year later. Hali always said someday he'd go and look for him. Maybe now, he will."

"Souvenir?" asked Iawrrl.

Vanska nodded to a spot above the fireplace mantel where, almost lost among the array of family holos, it was mounted to the wall. A Tas-Tech Mark-3 high capacity laser carbine, its safety engaged, and its power-pack reading three quarters of full charge remaining.

* * *

"To answer what I know will be your first question," said Iawrrl to both cadets, before the last blue afterimage of the security holocam footage had cleared itself from our optical nerves, "it requires thirty-six logged hours down in Seeker's gunnery station, under my personal instruction, to qualify to operate so much as the training simulator on your own."

Dani just stared at him. Tobi put on a serious air, nodded once, and said, "Noted."

We had just finished viewing over an hour of automated security holocam footage - so, not the best image quality and pretty much nil as far as production value was concerned - of a Halivarri crewman, recognizably Dasker, being hustled into an unused gunnery station on (presumably) the Gvadakoungg by a big, dark-furred Vargyr with a lean, spacer's build to coax and coach and taunt and tease him into actually begging for a good, hard knotting.

At the climax of the scene (not by any means the first time either of them had cum, mind you, but merely the most impressive), the gun discharged as well. Thankfully, they were traversing jumpspace at the time (the crazy, multicolor, ever-fluctuating lighting made that clear - cinematic holographers try to fake it, but this was unmistakably the real thing), so there was nothing out there to be hit.

Apparently, this had somehow been broadcast all across the starcruiser, and someone had been clever enough to cache a recording. We came in late, and it cut off shortly after the big finish, presumably before the illicit copyist could be caught. But the ship-wide audience had been bad for Hali (if not for his popularity with the crew), as there was no way he couldn't be called on the carpet for discharging a weapon without training and certification, let alone authorization.

Between the three still holos which Seeker had picked out from the Bulloc cruiser buy-bin and the holofootage we'd just viewed, we now knew what infraction of Hali's had placed him before a disciplinary tribunal on the Gvadakoung, and had corroboration that yes, he had pairbonded Captain Fangg - who could be seen, not clearly, but recognizably, observing but not presiding at Hali's hearing.

Fangg's familiar, stoic, scarred face was visible, half-lit, in the photo of Hali taken from behind, where he stood in a judicial dock, lit from below in a manner that made every wriggle and clench of his backside visible. We didn't recognise either of the other two Vargyr facing him from the bench - both in Gvadakoungg officer's dress, one sternly presiding, the other a smirking, amused recorder.

The front view of the accused was even more compelling, capturing him attempting a futile adjustment to make his blatant erection (he seemed to be about Dani's size, which is plenty for any 'Varri, by the way), spot-lit from below and thus plainly displayed by light and shadow, so that it almost looked like Hali was teasing himself intentionally as he looked wide-eyed toward his accusers.

Did those eyes say, "forgive me," or did they say, "fuck me"?

Dimly visible beyond him, as Vargish silhouettes, observers of the proceeding presumably appreciating the back view. Taller than any, a figure seen only as a looming shadow marked out by luminous, round eyes - Courangara Ialdabaoth-Bose.

* * *

Tobi was in the galley, prepping something to make for an easy breakfast in the morning, from a frugal combination of fresh goods paired with careful selections from Seeker's supply of canned and dried stuff, which he claimed there were ways to make decently edible, but required a little forethought.

Dani was at the ship computers, rifling the data library to load the gunnery simulator operational manual onto Tobi's flec reader and his own, to Iawrrl's amusement. So both were in earshot (that cabin is not big) and easy conversational range as we talked through what we'd collected, and what we could infer from it.

"This was all off that Bulloc freighter, whose public logs claim its last port of call was in the Joveth system," I was explaining.

"Free port," Iawrrl put in for the cadets' sake. "Not much there except gas-skimming facilities, purification plants for ships that don't carry their own, and a bunch of bars and hostels and a sort of open market exchanging duty-free goods."

"The sort of place Fangg would look to offload hostages, where they could arrange transport off on any number of jump-routes. The freighter was using it as a stopover from one of the outlying, colonial systems where they can bring in plants, livestock and tools supporting settlement work. Apparently, the Gvadakoungg was taking on fuel at the same time."

"Not like Fangg to let his whereabouts be publicized. Then again, if he was letting the Mirasirka Queen passengers disembark, he might have needed to let that be known. It's also possible that this discipline slip is deeper than Hali getting himself knotted in restricted areas."

"You sure that's really Dasker?" Iawrrl mused. He was better at taking a pessimistic view that I am - part of the reason I prefer him to take the lead. But in this case, the cadets overrode him.

"Yes," said Tobi.

"Totally," agreed Dani.

We figured we could take their word for it.

* * *

I was doing some routine and likely pointless parsing of the metadata on the stuff we'd pulled from the Bulloc data-bin, when I became aware of Iawrrl clearing his throat and shuffling audibly behind me, in the way he does when he wants my attention, but doesn't want to be rude about it.

"What have you got?" I asked him, as he was handing me a scuffed plass flec case to slot to my console.

"Hali's missing brother, I think," he replied. "Check it."

At first, I took it for a prizefight event, which wasn't entirely wrong. But the dimly shown crowd had a whole different vibe from a boxing match. There was clearly any amount of money riding on this contest, however, and a couple of Hawgs openly making orderly books not far from the ring. The audience leaned pretty heavily toward 'Lifted. The lighting was oddly soft. The announcers cut in:

"Well, Vexx - quite a night we are in for, here. Two dark horses who came out of nowhere this season, to move up through their division and into these quarter-finals. What do you think of them? What's at stake, here?"

A drone holocam circled the ring, roped off with thick, elastic, impervic cable around a textured, plass-fabric surface like you'd use to practice posture stretches or maybe close-range gymnastics.

"Glad you asked, Ronn. They say there's no one with more to prove than a Leonid without a mane, but that club-tail scrapper will give him a run for his money. And for each of them, this is their chance to advance to the next bracket, right out of their size division to play with the big boys, so you know they both want that win."

The cam zoomed in on the tawny, lithe form of a young Leo male, head shorn at the sides and styled to a stiff, flat brush between his ears and shading a high forehead. His features were noble, but that haircut said he'd been stripped of honor - probably for declining a consort his mother or aunts had picked out for him. Her loss. He was a nice piece.

It was his costume that finally made what I was watching here click. The singlet ran over each shoulder, bypassed his slightly pinker tan nipples and supple abs to a pair of short, tight trunks that covered nearly nothing - his entire backside bare, stretchy straps around each thigh, and a pouch that held an athletic cup to shield his nuts, but left the rest of his tackle fully exposed. He was about half-hard, looking relaxed rather than excited.

"Each of them has already bested one competitor from the larger breeds to get this far. What can you tell me about those matches, Vexx?"

"A win for both of them, as you said, but how they did that tells us what we can look for as they take on each other, for the first time since the preliminaries in the pre-season."

"We'll have more to say about that match-up, too, in just a bit here."

"We sure will, Ronn. What worked for the penitent prince, here, against his big donk bruiser was some really special tongue action, that I for one am looking forward to seeing him turn on his competitor tonight."

"So watch for that at home, folks. And what about the guy he'll be facing?"

"Something really special, Ronn. All the way from the Varr system, a long journey by any measure, but this Jaxx Destin has fought his way up into the leagues the hard way, and he is not to be underestimated."

The cam swung round to show a sleekly male-shaped Halivarri, with pale fur showing wherever his taut red singlet didn't cover, which was most of him. He'd seen some rough times - one ear was notched, and his tail was clubbed half-length, ending in a wrap of athletic tape, rather than a tuft. That aside, the resemblance to the shy cadet above our bunk was undeniable.

"I never really believed the stories until I saw it myself. When he took that Bulloc stud-buck, he rode him all the way down and slow-milked him, no hands. Had the win in two minutes, and kept right on going, finishing him three more times, and with two big eruptions of his own as he ran out the clock."

"I'd have loved to have been the fresher floor after that one, Vexx."

Far from the Leonid's languid repose, the 'Varri contender was insolently handling his cock, working up a full, shiny-pink topped boner and keeping his eye leveled on his opponent.

As he took the lube applicator from a handler, and hiked a foot up on the middle rope to squeeze the tube up his chute, he hooked an arm under his leg and pulled himself down to take half his decent-sized cock into his mouth to suck himself slowly, still staring the Leonid down as his finger circled his ring to clear any excess, which he wiped off down each cheek and his chin like war-paint. He let his cock escape his lips to slap his belly with a glistening strand of pre.

This was professional-league competitive sport-sex, the main idea being to bring one's opponent to climax before succumbing oneself. I'd only ever watched a couple of matches, once, and had been pretty drunk at the time. I'd been in a down-phase with Iawrrl then, physically, and it hadn't done a lot for me.

But this had my attention. The Leo was hot. And Jaxivver Dasker, AKA Jaxx Destin, was something to see. By now, our cadets were rubbernecking, so I pulled the nearest (who happened to be Tobi) onto my lap. The commentators went on to reprise both competitors' seasons, and talked a bit about their early matchup, an inconclusive tie, later voided on technical reasons that didn't affect their competitive standing.

"But one of them needs to come out on top, and cum last, tonight, Ronn. When Destin sucks himself like that, watch out - he's thirsty."

"Don't count Reg Penintent out of the match, yet, Vexx. I'd say he's looking forward to it."

The cam swung back to the Leonid youth, lazily lubing his own hole as he watched his competitor's display, free arm up so he could tongue-groom his own underarm, his cock slowly stiffening, the glistening sheen of tiny barbs catching the low, intimate light. He didn't bother with any warpaint nonsense, just returned Jaxx's stare as he let one finger-pad slowly circle his ring.

A warning bell sounded, indicating a sixty second count to the start, and handlers appeared, checking the fit of nut-cups and pads at elbow and knee. I saw now that their groin protection had little status lights, with others at their hips - monitors that would automatically detect and announce a climax, to determine who shot first.

"That is absolutely Hali's big brother," said Tobi.

"Totally," said Dani at my elbow. He was hunkered beside my chair and wrapped around Iawrrl's leg to watch.

"Where'd this come from?" I asked Iawrrl. "Have we had this lying around the whole time?"

"Nope. You have your buy-bin params for Seeker. I have mine. This came off the Horn of Plenty. This is new. Timestamp on this match puts it a couple months back. League finals were at Yearsend." It was beginning to sound like we really ought to get to know that Bulloc crew a bit better.

The boys were both deeply absorbed in watching Jaxx get cozy with his Leo pal. The two were well matched, the Leo stud only a little larger overall, both with a sleek, sinuous line of long limbs and taut torso as they curled and arched that made their entire bodies seem like extensions of their proudly erect cocks rather than the other way around.

They jostled and jousted and teased these together, each already seeming on the brink of a big spill. Far from the angry or at least confrontational attitude the boxing-ring setup had led me to expect, these two gave every appearance of enjoying themselves - and each other - thoroughly.

When the Leo leaned in to lap the synth-cum lube from Jaxx's chin, the Varri let him, caught his eye, and brought his own lips and tongue down to meet his in a long, sensuous, seemingly genuine kiss. The two tumbled slowly onto the mat in a twining of limbs, painting each other from hip to nipple in glistening trails of pre.

"This is a danger zone for Reg Penitent, isn't it, Vexx?" The commentary was clear, but hushed and almost reverent.

"It is, Ronn. That Leonid loved nothing better than the feel of fur under his barbs. Both losses this season, that's how he went out."

"And no fur softer or thicker than 'Varri, Vexx. Oh, they're moving now, folks! The Varri is baiting him, will he take that offer? He will! What are their chances, Vexx?"

Jaxx had flipped himself around to tease the Leo's bristly cock with his soft face-fur and hot, eager mouth, with his own clubbed tail raised to expose his quivering, pink hole to Reg's determined, dangerous tongue. Warning lights on their protective cups and at each hip blinked amber as both cocks seeped freely, trailing sticky strands that glistened under the stage-lights.

Jaxivver wasn't defending his hole, but arching and spreading to welcome each measured lap and tease of the Leo's tongue, his Halivarri instincts making his responsiveness evident, his body trembling as he combed his softest fur caressingly through Reg's penile barbs. The Leonid for his part showed bunching muscle under tawny fur, tail tossing restlessly as he momentarily faltered before finding his focus again. The amber warning lights grew steadily more orange-red, and blinked faster.

Tobi watched the Leo intently. "I have got to learn how to do that," he observed, then squirmed around on my lap, pulling himself up by my harness to get between me and the vidifax, which I paused as he said, as seriously as he ever said anything, "Langrr, Sir, I need you to teach me how to make Dani cum like that."

"Well, with Dani's permission, I am happy to coach you - but I don't have a Leo's tongue, and you don't have a Vargyr's. Your 'Varri instincts, and likely your bond, will probably show you what he likes best. But later, okay? I am kind of into this."

Tobi nodded, settled himself with a happy wiggle back into my lap, so that my stiffie pressed his trainer-bead to hum and buzz at his hole. I reached to pet Dani's hot ears where he was nuzzling Iawrrl beside me, and let the recording resume.

Just as it seemed one or the other was sure to spurt, there was some business I couldn't make out as the Leonid scrabbled for traction on the mat. A piping whistle sounded, handlers sprung into the ring, and the contestants separated.

The drone cam hovered low and zoomed its lens onto the Leo's corner. One of the impervic claw-covers had come free from his left hand. No foul - it was clearly an accident - but the bout was on hold until the situation could be remedied. The cam swung around to show a sterile sealant being applied to a scratch on Jaxx's shoulder - superficial, but serious enough to show through his fur.

The handlers led them back to the center-circle of the ring and as they took up position, the Leonid leaned in to brush the shoulder-scratch with an apologetic lick. Jaxx smiled, and stroked his cheek tenderly to show no hard feelings.

"Aww!" said our cadets, in unison. I had to admit, it was kind of sweet. Plainly, these two actually liked each other - not always (or even often) the case in professional sex. Cute.

Leo and 'Varri circled, nuzzled, teased and soon were back in the game, status-lights amber, cocks visibly throbbing against each other's thigh as they locked eyes. Then, Jaxx pivoted and dropped, elbows and hands on the mat, clubbed tail arched high as he pressed his cleft back against Reg's bristled length in a taunting invitation.

"What are we seeing, Ronn?" asked one commentator, although we were plainly seeing Reg Penitent greasing up his big tool with the lube seeping from Jaxx's ring, as the 'Varri boy's cock dripped onto the mat while he rocked back to meet it.

"Jaxx Destin wants to finish this, one way or another, Ronn, and this could go either way. Most of his wins have been from getting a grip around his opponent with his entire rectum, but both losses have come from this strategy as well. He's got a hair trigger when he's being topped, and he'll be feeling every one of those barbs."

"Reg is taking the opening Vexx. He's in! And Jaxx Destin is riding back to meet him with that signature ass-action. Lights going orange on both..."

Jaxx was not a passive bottom. He was eagerly, urgently grinding and squirming back to stay hilted on Reg's brutal thrusts, pre streaming freely each time his own cock slapped his belly. The Leo was nuzzling up his neck, and Jaxx turned to bring his panting mouth to meet him.

The two kissed slowly, lingeringly, as Reg Penitent fell back, pulling Jaxx with him, to bury himself to the root in the Halivarri's shivering, gripping passage. Lights blinked orange in unison, faster, redder, then simultaneously shone solid red. Jaxivver's big, 'Varri cock jetted a thick fountain of cum as the Leonid unleashed inside him.

"Another tie! Look at that, Vexx!" shouted Ronn into his audio pickup. The Leonid slid partway from under Jaxx to nestle under his arm so that a broad stretch of tawny torso was exposed to the ongoing spray of Halivarri seed that Jaxx obligingly aimed up both of them.

"By league rules, that's the match, Ronn - but there's still plenty of time on the clock, if neither taps out."

"Not likely, Vexx, with these two. From here, it's all about enjoying themselves."

"Or more likely, each other. Let's see how they finish."

We did. Tobi was sliding the teaser-bead in his trunks along the knot-hard bone in mine, and Dani was watching with his intent, serious face all up against Iawrrl's. On the mat, on our fax screen, the Leonid exile and the Halivarri scrapper were intent on using all the time remaining to bring each other to more protracted climaxes, taking them in turns, until the mat was awash with slippery spills, and they lay panting, tongue-wrestling, and tenderly caressing each other's cum-sodden fur.

Time was called, and they left the ring together. I got the feeling they'd be sharing a fresher, and possibly the rest of the night together.

"Well, boys," said Iawrrl into the awed silence that was our collective reaction to the spectacle we'd just watched, "I have some ideas for a new training regimen, supplementing your gymnbot workouts."

"Can I watch?" I asked.

"Of course, silly!" said Tobi, with an excited wiggle in my lap.

"Totally," agreed Dani, nodding aginst Iawrrl's shorts.

I didn't get the feeling that Iawrrl had league competition in mind. But long term, it's made our own holos better. But all that would come later.

* * *

"I think we're going to have to get to know that Bulloc crew. Lucky for us, at least the two at the cafeteria thought the boys were cute, and Vargyr on 'Varri action appeals to their tastes."

I tapped out some standard datacalls on the comms console, which assured me that the Horn of Plenty would still be berthed at the smallport through Oneday, making use of its repair and resupply facilities - a good sign for our own plans if their quartermaster preferred the Halivarri aerodrome to the freeport's makeshift accommodations.

"See what more you can find out otherwise over the endweek," said Iawrrl."Freighter like that shouldn't need that much work after a routine run. Wish I'd looked at it closer, myself, at the time. Trouble at Joveth, I'll bet, and if I am not wrong, Fangg up to his knot in it as usual."

Turns out, Iawrrl was right, as usual. But we wouldn't learn more tonight. The boys were yawning as they stripped to change into their skivvies - or, actually, each other's on a whim - having levered down the bunk and gossiping to one another about the security holo and sporting event. I got the feeling they were out for our knots, for real. But tonight, we had sleep to catch up on.

Iawrrl and I by unspoken agreement sandwiched the boys' slender bodied between our larger, warmer, furrier ones and, once everyone was all boned up and cozy, dimmed the lights and got what rest we could. I for one expected we'd need it.

* * *