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It's been a few days since the incident, and in that time I've been confined to my embassy room. Johnson and the guards say that it's for investigation purposes, and “for your own safety". I can't imagine the political backlash the incident has caused, and no doubt I'll be suffering some of the consequences sooner or later. Best case scenario; they assign me to fly domestic government flights like my father. Worst case scenario; they strip me of my wings and I'll be forced to find other work. Extreme worst case scenario; they strip me of my wings and leave me at the mercy of the beastmen.

I think I'll take the firing line before the last one.

I shake the dark thoughts from my mind and refocus my attention on the Haddock's technical manual, specifically regarding its engines. What could have caused such a dramatic drop in oil pressure with such near instant effects? Maybe Green cut the oil lines? No, if that were the case it would have been a gradual decrease in pressure, and would have been noticeable from the start. Engine two was the first to go, and come to think of it, if it wasn't for that overheating quirk we may have never known what was going on until it was too late to turn around. Take what small mercies I can get, I guess.

My personal investigation is cut short when there's a knocking on the door.

“Come in." I say while placing the manual on the table beside me. It's Rudi, followed by Johnson and…

Oh no.

The older jackal lady steps in behind them, dressed in a much more casual fashion than when I first met her. I sink into my chair as her sickly green gaze meets mine, a scowl covering her snout. Worse still, a jackal masked lion beastmen follows in, a sword in the shape of a sickle holstered to his hip. The door shuts behind them with an audible click. Rudi and the beastmen guard stand while Johnson takes the chair across from mine and the jackal lady takes the bed, laying down on it. I do my best to ignore the two beastmen in the room and look to Johnson.

“What's going on?" I ask, attempting to keep some level of professionalism, though I'd much rather ask how buggered I am. Johnson lets out a sign and rubs his temples.

“Let's get straight to the point. Green sabotaged the flight from the start. We believe he poured water into the oil tanks, and the resulting pressure caused the caps to fly off, along with most of their contents. Though he's been silent as to why, we can only assume he's an agent for either the Franks or Soviets. Only thing that makes sense given the testimony you and Rudi have given. We can only assume he panicked when the number two engine failed earlier than expected. For now he is to remain in our custody, you on the other hand will be handed over to the Egyptians."

Ah, now it all makes se- wait, “What?"

A newfound terror fills me as I physically tense up at those words. On the verge of a full blown panic, I glance at the room's singular window. It's small, but large enough for a human to smash through, and the room is located on the third floor. Before I can think of acting upon the impulse, Johnson hastily raises his hands and says, “Hold on now, they aren't going to harm you nor are you their prisoner! Given the fact the Haddock is now on the Nile, it's only fit that its pilot be there to oversee its repair, and the time and resources needed to take it apart and haul it back to Nut would delay the flight for too long."

Okay, now I'm confused, terrified, with anger coming in a close third. With a rather frustrated tone, foregoing the mask of professionalism, I demand, “Elaborate."

"Queen Nefertari-“ he says gesturing to the black jackal on my bed, “-still wishes to ratify the treaty between our two nations. Her majesty has requested that you be the one to transport Princess Aneksi to the parliament, personally."

It takes me a moment to process this new information, and something tells me Nefertari's request was more of a demand. Regardless, the idea of living among beastmen isn't exactly… comforting. At least I'm not being stripped of my wings, yet, but that brings up only more questions; “I can already tell there's more than just a practical reason as to why, I alone, am being handed over to the bea-Egyptians."

I lightly cringe and bite my tongue at the slip up, and the room's overall atmosphere has taken a sour turn. Johnson brows furrow in disapproval, Rudi winces, and in the corner of my eye I can see the scowl on the Queen's face deepen. Oh, I can already tell this is going to be a diplomatic minefield and I haven't the lick of experience to navigate it. Who is the absolute idiot who thought this was a good idea?

“To answer your question; you were requested by name to also serve as a messenger between the Egyptian and our respective governments. We had been looking into having a trained diplomat live among them for ease of communication, and this is our opportunity to see if it's feasible." There was a threat behind his message, and the way he shot a barely contained and annoyed glance at the Queen told me he too was not very keen on having me serve in this position. So, not only am I not given a choice in this matter, now I have a metaphorical gun placed to my head and expectations to live up too. This is a political fucking disaster just waiting to happen, and when it inevitably goes south I'm going to be held purely responsible for it.

“Who's the new captain?" I ask through barely contained anger, trying to change the subject. This, this is insanity!

“You are." Johnson states, then gestures to Rudi, “He will be your new copilot while still performing the duties of flight engineer and chief mechanic. On the request of Queen Nefertari only the original crew is to be aboard, and given the nature of Green we cannot in good conscience risk replacement crew being equally compromised."

I guess that makes sense, I'll just have to refresh Rudi on flying the Haddock. Flight Engineers are trained pilots after all, just rarely get to use their stick and rudder skills. I'll plan out the specifics later, for now I need to know; “What happens now?"

"Now?" Johnson echoes, “Tomorrow you'll be officially transferred over to Egyptian authority. Repairs to the Haddock are to begin immediately after your arrival, and you are to oversee and will have final authority over them and the preceding flight. The next day you will be acquainted with your duties as messenger and diplomat. All your personal belongings will be handled by the embassy staff, once you've packed them of course."

Part of me wants to ask what happens if I refuse. Treason probably, and the price of treason is a firing squad. Honestly, a part of me would prefer it over beastmen captivity, but in the end I silently accept my fate with a nod.

"Good, if that is all we'll leave you to pack." With a clap, Johnson stands up and starts out, with Rudi sending a look of sympathy my way before following him.

"I wish to be alone with the new captain." Queen Nefertari's voice breaks through the tense silence, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, especially mine.

“If that is what you wish, your majesty." Johnson replies, to which I can only look at him with disbelief as he and Rudi exit the room, the door shutting behind him far louder than it should. I sit there in silence for a few tense seconds, in a room with two beastmen, alone, and my anger and disbelief rising to new heights. Clearly, when the Queen said “alone" she meant “no humans around", other than yours truly.

My mind then decides to remind me of what the good Queen said barely an hour before the incident; “I am only going to say this once, skinny. If anything happens to my Aneksi, you will bear the brunt of my wrath."

My anger vanishes at once, blown out like a wax candle. Like rusty gears I shakily and slowly turn my attention the Queen, who is currently staring at me like a predator does prey, all while rolled on her side in a classic Frank way. If I weren't currently terrified out of my damn mind I may have found her alluring… for a beastman. She slides off the bed with a level of grace I thought one of their kind would be incapable of, and prowling towards me I can only sink further into the seat. God I must look pathetic, but I sure have a reason too! Soon, not even the seat can keep me safe as she stands on high, staring down at me with those piercing green eyes. This is it, what will she go for first?

My face, or perhaps the chest? What about my bollocks? I close my legs at the thought.

After an uncomfortable moment of stillness she grabs my arms, and before I can yelp I find my face buried into her furry bosom as I'm lifted up out of the chair. In a vice grip, I'm held to her form while she assaults my hair and exposed face with her canine tongue. Arms pinned to my side I can do nothing but take the onslaught.

What the bloody hell is going on?!

Finally, her assault upon my face ceases. Unfortunately, it's after every part of it is covered in layers of spit. She then collapses to the floor, bringing me along with her. To my growing shock she starts to break down. Never in my life did I ever think I'd see a beastmen cry, let alone against me. The once authoritative Queen who had threatened me not a few days ago is now weeping while holding me like some stuffed feral. I've never been so confused and terrified in my entire life as I am right now.

Hesitantly, and with what little wiggle room I have, I return the hug using my free forearms with a few pats on her back. I'm not exactly sure why I did. We remain in this position for at least a good few minutes before she moves, grabbing my head with padded hands and tilts until we are eye to eye, her snout not even an inch away from my face. Those green eyes are… something else, and not because of their unnatural glow. An absolute cocktail of emotions; sadness, anger, regret, guilt, and relief. All the while, I feel like there is something digging into my chest. It's not painful, but impossible to ignore. A padded thumb, leathery and warm to the touch, rubs against my right cheek, tracing the stitched wound.

“Thank you."

With that she lets me go, stands up, and returns to her seemingly normal authoritarian attitude. "Until we meet again, captain."

With that they depart, leaving me on my knees to contemplate what the hell just happened.

____

Misery, it comes in many forms. Today it has come in a cocktail of tiredness, fatigue, humidity and heat. Oh god the heat. I've become used to flying while feeling like bollocks, but this is something else entirely! Crammed inside the Haddock's maintenance tunnel to the right wing, the word oven doesn't come close to describing it. Misery does however love company, with Rudi joining me in taking apart the number three engine, making sure that we won't need more than one replacement. Number two alone is going to take at least a week to exchange once we get our hands on a new one, even with the efforts of Rudi, a handful of military engineers on loan, and I. Said engineers were kind enough to lend a few of their spare khaki uniforms, especially the shorts, thank god. Rudi prefers to go topless in this situation, while I tolerate a stained undershirt that's currently more akin to wet tissue paper as it clings to my skin. The amount of sweat coming out of us both makes the inside of the wing even more unbearable. The humidity will be the death of us. Nausea starts to rear its ugly head, followed by a faint feeling of dizziness. Recognizing the hallmarks of heatstroke, I order Rudi to drop what he's doing and get out of the wing. I don't know how well he's taking the heat, but it would be safe to assume just as well as I am, perhaps worse. Without a word he drops everything and scrambles out as quickly as I do.

Entering the empty crew compartment we grab our respective water jugs and sip on them, not wanting to aggravate the feeling of nauseousness. Well, at least I do, Rudi opts to chug it down and instantly looks ready to hurl. Without much thought I grab one of the empty mail baskets and give it to him. I wonder where the rest of my bastard crew is. Probably back at the embassy enjoying water that isn't lukewarm, and air conditioning. Bastards. Frustrated, I move to the cockpit and scan over the instruments. Everything on the captain's side is either relatively intact or has a nice .32 caliber hole in it, which is going to be replaced… sometime. Not sure what exactly the higher ups plan to do in the terms of a time scale. Could be stuck here for the next few months, which is not appealing to put bluntly. My eyes are drawn to the bullet hole in the right windshield, a sharp phantom pain manifesting itself.

With a shake of my head and brush over the stitches with a thumb, I turn my attention to the outside world. The docks are alive with activity; wooden ships of all shapes and sizes move about either casting off or coming in. Those already docked are being loaded or unloaded with passengers and cargo alike. None of them, however, are drawing the same level of attention as the Haddock, which isn't a surprise. Disregarding its origin, it is as large or larger than most beastmen ships, and that's not including wingspan. Doesn't help that no one can dock within a certain distance of the Haddock, leaving a few empty spots. It's causing quite the traffic jam, with a few ships anchored just a few dozen yards away in open water. Meanwhile, a mix of both humans and beastmen guard these off-limit areas. How the hell they stand this heat and for as long as they do, I'll never know. Then again, I'm no soldier.

The sound of Rudi hurling and spitting brings my attention back to the crew compartment. I find the Germanic man slumped over the basket, currently containing a sickly mix of yellowish bile and what remained of breakfast; steak and eggs with a side of hash browns, buttery toast and black tea. My last human made meal for however long it takes to get out of here, and I'm not certain what I'll be eating within that period of time. No one has exactly informed me what beastmen eat, though I assume mostly meat given their predatory nature. How the hell do they keep an entire civilization of primarily meat eaters fed? Must be a logistical nightmare, but recalling the farm it's safe to assume they also eat fruits and vegetables.

Rudi and I spend the next hour trying to survive the heat, let alone recover to a state where we can continue working. In that time two of the military engineers who have been "voluntold" to assist crawl out of the other wing, in far better shape too. Rudi will have to check their work to make sure they did everything right, they're just military engineers after all, definitely not dedicated aircraft mechanics like Rudi. Silence reigns between our two parties; two civilians and two soldiers. The engineers are doing their best to avoid eye contact with me in particular, and what few glances they do send my way are looks of unease, as if they're looking at a dead man. Honestly, I can't blame them. The beastmen way of life is alien to most, if not all of humanity. There's still not much known about their customs, social behavior, or even language, and I'm the poor bastard that has to at least assimilate to part of it if I have any chance of surviving this. With a shake of my head I take one last sip of water before returning to the tunnel. There my mind comes up with excuses as to why I shouldn't leave said tunnel for the foreseeable future, heat stroke be damned.

Inevitably the time comes. As the sun starts its descent, so did my hope that this is all a fever dream brought on by some exotic disease. Fidgeting heavily, I find the strength to leave the Haddock's relative safety and step onto the dock, where I'm greeted by two humans and two jackal masked beastmen; the ladder of which I assume are 'striped hyenas', both women. The difference in equipment is quite staggering; rifles and steel helmets versus iron swords and shields. Despite this, if there's one thing these two groups share it is the degree of professionalism they seem to carry themselves with; standing up straight, shoulders back, eyes more focused on their surroundings than me in particular, and respective uniforms well maintained. Regardless, I know which group is to escort me, but where too is still a mystery.

“Well, this is it Rudi. See you on the other side." I say, giving the man a mock two fingered salute. He returns it, echoing my words. With that my fellow man departs into the shadows of dusk, leaving me as the only human in sight. Taking a deep breath I stand up as straight as I can, put on a brave face, and nod to the beastwomen soldiers. They offer a nod in return, and with it we are off. It doesn't take long for what little bravery I had to crack as I'm led straight through the thick of it. The streets are alive with activity, and it doesn't take long for them to notice a particularly furless, snoutless, short and twitchy creature under royal escort. Intimidated can't begin to describe how I feel. Then there is the smell. I have never, until now, noticed what beastmen truly smell like, especially after a long hot day. It is a thick, earthy and pungent scent that fills the air, and mixed in with the smell of exotic perfumes and spices as we pass a market street, it is a real kicker.

Said market is by far the most active, as numerous merchants shout to grab the attention of would be customers, all in a language I can't even begin to decipher. Hell, there's probably more than a few mixed in there as well. All the while, both men and women range from half to fully naked roam about, with not a care in the slightest of such open nudity. An absolute sensory-overload if there ever was one. I stumble from it all, but quickly recover before hopefully anyone noticed. Judging by the confused looks sent my way I can only assume they did, or perhaps it's just because humans aren't exactly common in the city proper. In the end, I decide to look at the ground, using the shapes of my escorts in my peripherals as guides. All I need now is some hand-cuffs and I'd be the spitting image of a man being escorted to the firing squad. Feels like it too. Hours seem to drag by, but soon the constant bombardment of smells and sounds fade. Even the texture of the ground has changed; from hard dirt road to white stone, which my loaned military boots now clack against.

White stone?

Looking up I can't help but gawk at the sight before me; the Royal Palace, which now seems to glow in the orange light of dusk. While my mind shudders as to why the beastmen are bringing me to the palace of all places, my body on autopilot keeps pace with my escorts. By the time I snap back into reality, I'm already before the main gate. What a sight it is! Massive painted statues carved into equally massive chunks of stone, depicting what I can only guess are ancient kings, queens, heroes and pagan gods. Each statue is lit by its own fire, letting the master craft of sculpting and paint be seen even in the dark of night. So mesmerized by this I failed to notice I had stopped cold, my tired body and mind frozen in awe. I'm only brought back to reality by a stifled cough. Finally ripping my attention away from the statues I'm greeted by a beastmen dressed in ornate clothing which covers him completely from the neck down, a complete reversal of what I've come to expect from their kind, along with a bemused smile upon his face.

“Welcome! I am Nebit, an advisor and scribe to her majesty; Queen Nefertari. I must say, it is an honour to be chosen to greet the first human ever to walk the halls of this holy place!" He says, rather too energetically for my taste. His species is at first hard to place, but after a bit of digging I come up with Aardwolf. Shorter than most beastmen, hell even me; only coming up to my neck, but probably just as deadly.

“Uh… hello, sir." I simply reply, offering a nod. The smile on his snout only widens, much to my growing concern. I blink and he's beside me.

“Come, come, you must be tired from today's work on your silver bird! Queen Nefertari has instructed me to escort you to your quarters for the night." Placing a hand on my back he lightly pushes me forward, finally getting my legs back into gear. The inside of the palace is not much different from the outside; highly decorated and a master craft of design. Gold, gems, and many paints cover the white stone walls in elaborate images and symbols I have no concept of, let alone should be judging. I'm no artist, let alone possess any taste for it, but even I must take time to admire the craftsmanship surrounding me.

A woman's voice comes from my left, and turning to it I find another jackal. However, unlike Nefertari or Aneksi, her fur is more natural; earthly shades of brown and black while her chest, belly, and inner thighs are a cream colour. Moreover, her shape is far more plump compared to the amazons that are the two royals, which she seemingly has no problems showing off. Despite actually wearing clothing that covers most of her form, it's made of a transparent blue material that makes me wonder what the point of it is. Probably a display of wealth, or perhaps sexual purposes? I give an uneasy glance at my escort, a little perturbed.

“Ah, Vizier Kamira…!" He calls to the jackal before giving a deep bow, then goes on to rapid fire something in their language. Not sure what to do I simply watch as she approaches, her line of sight never leaving me yet continuing to converse with Nebit. In an effort to avoid eye contact I look to her tall ears, which have more than a few golden rings and other jewelry attached to them. I take a reactionary step back as she gets too close, once again showing her kind's utter disregard for personal space. She pouts at this, and in panicked response I attempt to give a hasty apology, to which she gives a giggle, covering her maw with a hand.

“It is fine, captain Thatch. I forget your kind has particular… reservations when it comes to closeness between those who are not familiar. Do not fear, for I have instructed the servants to respect this, however I cannot guarantee the nobles will do the same. Regardless, you are a guest here and should you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask~." The jackal leans down, squeezing her furred bosom between her arms, all while giving me a rather lecherous look. Her meaning not lost to me all I can do is internally scream upon realizing my tired eyes fell for it too. Before I can make the deflection that I was in fact staring at her golden chained emerald necklace, she places a hand underneath my chin and forces me to look into her brown eyes. “I am Vizier Kamira, the right hand of Queen Nefertari. My word is second to hers and hers alone, for she is the messenger of the gods. Should anyone threaten you, or make any attempt to harm you in any way, my Queen has instructed that I deal with the matter, personally. However, you are not to abuse this power, or the generosity of my Queen. Is this understood?"

Caught off guard by her complete change in attitude, I can only respond with a stuttery, “Yes ma'am". With that, Kamira grins warmly before dismissing herself, saying she has duties to attend too, but looks forward to “learning more about our human guest~" in another tone reversal. I suppress a shiver of uncomfort, but I guess it didn't go completely unnoticed considering Nebit says nothing else until we reach my assigned room, where he drops me off with a bow and the promise of breakfast in the morning. With that he and the guards depart, leaving me alone to my devices. I scan the bedroom I find myself in, finding my personal belongings on top of a large bed with a net around it. It quickly comes apparent as to why there's a net to it; for there is a large portal leading straight to the outside world with no barrier between the room and it. There also appears to be a platter of foodstuffs on what I assume is a dresser, consisting of various fruits and dried meats upon a literal silver platter.

While not as impressive as the hallways, there's still more wealth in this single room than I'll probably have in my lifetime. With a tired sigh that I've been holding for a while now, I begin the process of unpacking. I'm not surprised to find the mail pistol I had put inside missing, but I do find a bottle of whiskey and a whopping four full cigarette cartons in its place. Looking at the five items I can only accept my fate at the mercy of the beastmen. Picking up one of the boxes I withdraw a fag from it. I thought I'd never smoke, let alone drink, but this looks to be as good of a time as any to start. I need something to calm my nerves, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna get any sleep tonight.