On the distant world of Ausruun, there lived a proud race known as Ausruuti. As graceful as they were deadly, the Ausruuti traditionally were warriors. Though technology and science weren't unknown to them, for many hundreds of years after their first contact with greater galactic civilization, they preferred to keep to themselves and their traditional ways. 

All that changed when the Kervunnu invaded. The enemy, at first, enjoyed the many advantages that came with being a sophisticated spacefaring Power; the Ausruuti, though brave and determined, were pushed to the brink of extinction. 

But, as the Ausruuti saying went, 'no tail stays still forever'. An Ausruuti prince known as Syllhari Arthern brokered a secret pact with other spacefaring peoples, displaying a degree of adroit diplomacy that was completely unexpected from one of the 'savage' Ausruuti. Their new friends provided the Ausruuti with modern weapons and spaceships, as well as training in their use. These allies also coordinated to harrass and disrupt Kervunni shipping, especially when that shipping contained materiél for the ongoing war over Ausruun. 

The initial Ausruuti counterattack caught the Kervunnu by surprise, and with the ruthless instincts of the predators they were, the Ausruuti pressed their advantage relentlessly. At first, a small region was liberated. Then a major town. Then, the entire western seaboard of Ausruun's largest continent. From there, the reconquering of Ausruun proceeded inexorably, inevitably.

They fought honorably, taught by their alles how the galactic community expected warfare to be conducted. But just because they were honorable about it doesn't mean they showed any [i]mercy[/i] towards their would-be overlords. In a single generation, the Ausruuti had turned the tables on the invaders. Now, it was the Kervunni who risked annihilation. First was the final loss of their last redoubt on Ausruun and the complete destruction of their armies there. Then, like sharks circling floundering prey, their rivals and enemies closed in around them, tearing the once-mighty empire to shreds and slaughtering the Kervunni wherever they were found. 

Although galactic civilization normally would've been horrified at the genocide (one of the reasons so many took an interest in what was going on on otherwise remote Ausruun in the first place), the Kervunnu were considered an exception - they had gained themselves a huge empire that they had despotically ruled with clenched gauntlets...what they [i]hadn't[/i] gained in their nearly eight-hundred-year conquest and dominion of their neighbors was perhaps more important than territory - [i]friends[/i]. 

With the Kervunnu defeated, the Ausruuti knew they couldn't go back to the old ways. They kept their modern ships and modern weapons. They built schools and universities to keep the knowledge they'd gained and pass it on to the next generations. Ausruuti embassies began popping up throughout the Galactic Union, as each new generation of Ausruuti diplomats made it their personal mission to gain as many allies for their people as possible. They were keenly aware that it would have been them, and not the Kervunnu, who went extinct if it hadn't been for the intervention by the allies they had made. It was somewhat ironic, then, that the Clan that came to dominate Ausruuti politics was not one of the ancient and respected warrior Clans, but one that had had its start as lowly merchants, and who now were revered diplomats and peacebrokers - the Syllhari.

Over the next three hundred years, the Ausruuti became a fixture of galactic politics and government, having built a reputation as steadfast and loyal allies, fearless and indomitable mercenaries, and unexpectedly canny businesspeople. They were cherished by their allies, feared by their enemies, and respected by those who were neither ally nor enemy. Throughout it all, only one Clan persisted as the closest thing to royalty the Ausruuti had. 

"...And, you, Daughter, are going to throw everything, our exalted reputation, our [i]prestige[/i] down the privy to become...to become a common ship Captain!? No. No and never. Not while I still draw breath! I forbid it!"

Her father's tail was lashing so wrathfully, Ree briefly entertained the amusing thought of it flying away from him of its own accord. Her muzzle showed nothing of her inner thoughts, but neither did it reveal any hint of backing down in the face of her father's tirade. 

"With all respect, Father, I am well above the age where you have control over me. You can neither order nor forbid me anything that I don't agree to, and in this matter I most [i]strenuously[/i] disagree. Our Clan is, indeed, exalted. Since our honored ancestor, Syll-Ár, the Syllhari have gone on to produce great diplomats, warriors, doctors and proffessors, your own father was a renowned historian and author, even! [i]You're[/i] a [i]merchant[/i]! But we have yet to produce an equally respected [i]admiral[/i], Father. In order to achieve any goal, one must start at the beginning - in this case, as a 'mere' Captain. And when [i]I[/i] say that I stand ready to carry our banner - painted across the bow of a ship, perhaps, but our banner nonetheless - to new and greater achievements...you would [i]forbid[/i] it? Piss on 'how dare I', how dare [i]you[/i]?"

The old male was clearly taken aback by her rebuttal. At the table behind him, her mother chuckled, "She has a point, Deár. And you haven't seen her aboard a ship - like a Soriléan to water, she is. Even her flight school instructors have commented she may be the finest pilot of her generation - and recall, she wasn't trained in those arts on Ausruun, so her teachers had no reason to curry favor with us by bestowing undeserved praise on her. You can't stop her, so you may as well give her your blessing."

Attacked from both sides by the two most important females in his life, Syll-deár was wise enough to back down, "Fine. But you're not flying some cheap rust-bucket deathtrap - I will personally finance a ship of the latest, most advanced make.  And you're to claw-pick the very best crew you can put together. Each and every one of them has to be the very best. Those are my conditions."

Ree's tail swished behind her excitedly. Now came the hard part. 

The ship would take two years to build, during which Syll-ree spent most of her time assembling a crew. Most of the lower positions were easy to fill - she simply had to find Ausruuti who had received good enough marks in training and who were from appropriately aristocratic Clans to be associating with her. For filling the major roles, however, her options were drastically fewer. 

'The very best', her father had demanded. Thus, she had to locate and hire at least one Pilot, Navigator, Gunner, Engineer, Medic, and most importantly, an Operator. Ideally, she would have two or three of each so shifts could be rotated. All had to meet her father's requirement. 

Gunnery specialists were a dime a dozen on Ausruun, any of whom might've passed an ordinary Captain's muster. It was by no means 'fair', but for that particular role, Syll-ree leveraged her family's enormous wealth. She spent some time in Spacer taverns and the like, sussing out just who was the most sought-after Ausruuti Gunnery Chief, and how good their pay currently was. After that, all that was required was for her to make an offer for half again that amount. 

Navigators were harder to come by. Good ones were even more scarce than that. And 'the very best' Ausruuti navigator could not be had, as he currently was employed by Starlight - the G.U.'s supreme authority in all matters pertaining to spacefaring. Wealthy though they might be, even the Syllhari couldn't outbid [i]that[/i] employer. 

She could have one of her Pilots (if she managed to find more than one) double as a Navigator - the two roles required the same schooling, and were often expected to be capable of handling the other's duties. But, even Syll-ree knew that the 'best' Pilot would not necessarily also be the 'best' Navigator, and vice versa. 

Speaking of Pilots, Syll-ree was forced to hire a rookie. Not that [i]she[/i] had any real experience to speak of, either, but this cub was literally fresh out of school. So fresh, in fact, that he was still awaiting receipt of the six-winged pin that was awarded to fully-fledged Starlight Pilots. Her own 'wings' had taken months to arrive, so she didn't begrudge him that last smidgeon of legitimacy. Especially not when - and this had been genuinely painful to admit - the 'cub' had scored better on his final examination than she had in nearly every measure. 

The position of Medic was even harder to fill than Navigator. Ausruuti could regenerate, and though the ability differed greatly between the sexes - males being blessed with a faster and more thorough healing - to most other races it bordered on the supernatural. Their powerful regenerative ability was the source of their battlefield prowess, as it was exceedingly difficult to keep any Ausruut down for long. Damage that would permanently maim or cripple lesser races was no more than an inconvenience to the Ausruuti. 

Because of this, the native Ausruuti medical profession was... honestly quite behind compared to their counterparts among the other G.U. races, at least in terms of what might be called 'battlefield medicine'. Your typical Ausruuti doctor was trained more in the curing of diseases and infections than in the repairing of physical damage. If an Ausruut was injured enough to truly need such care, there was nothing that could be done at that point, anyway. 

So, mindful of her father's criteria, she made the bold choice to expand her search pool. She published notices in every major newspaper (or its equivalent) in the G.U. She spent a very large amount of money having these notices painstakingly translated into the appropriate offworld languages. She would have a Medic. They might not be an Ausruuti Medic, but they would damned well be the very best she could get her paws on. 

While she awaited reply from those, she fretted about the positions she had yet to begin filling. 'Master Starlight Mechanic' - or 'MSM' - was the official title of one of the most exclusive jobs in spaceflight. No ship over a certain size could legally fly without at least one 'Engineer' aboard at all times, but they did not have to be a Master. A ship like the one being built for her was required to have at least one [i]MSM[/i], specifically, in addition to a second Engineer who could be of lower rank. 

Filling both roles would prove difficult. Though the Ausruuti were by this point quite technologically advanced, few Ausruuti felt drawn to the field of engineering. Of those who were, they invariably preferred to keep their paws on solid ground. Though she held out hope and searched relentlessly, she was eventually forced to admit that, like her Medic, her MSM and ordinary Engineer might have to be 'imported', so to speak. 

Having to hire non-Ausruuti was not something she was against, per se.  Having had the majority of her secondary and vocational education offworld, Syll-ree had a healthy respect for the other spacefaring peoples and their capabilities. But she had wanted, dreamed of, an entirely Ausruuti crew under her command. Being forced to find her Medic and Engineers offworld only heightened her resolve to put an Ausruut in the last key role she needed to fill. 

It was perhaps the most important role in the entire crew - the position of Ship's Operator. 

The Operator, first and foremost, was a communications specialist. Every incoming or outgoing message between the ship and the wider galaxy went through the Operator.  Even communications within the ship were subject to their purview. In addition, the Operator facilitated communications of a different sort - between and within the various electrical, mechanical, and chemical devices that had to be seamlessly coordinated in order for literally anything to happen. Takeoff alone required nearly a dozen systems to work in perfect harmony. Though such coordinating could be - and was - handled by a computer, the Operator acted as a sanity check, making tweaks and corrections in real time to ensure that minor errors did not snowball into catastrophes.

It was an incredibly demanding position, one where the least mistake could cost the lives of an entire crew. The training was reputed to be grueling, and the instructors unforgiving of even minor errors. It was rumored that nearly a third of those who enrolled for training invariably killed themselves due to the extreme level of perfection demanded of them. 99% was a failing grade. [i]99.9%[/i] was a failing grade. In order to become a licensed Operator, only 100% was acceptable.

It was safe to say that they were not plentiful on Ausruun, and those there were already worked for other Captains. Worse, 'poaching' like she'd done to acquire her Gunnery Chief was not an option here. Not that she hadn't attempted - she just received barely-veiled threats from several Captains in response. If she'd already had a ship and crew behind her, she'd have dared them to try her... but at her current stage, she was not ready to make rivals or enemies.  Especially not of several Captains at once.

She was not normally given to superstition, but it was uncannily fortuitous how she eventually found an Ausruuti Operator who was currently unaffiliated. 

The day had started off well, with not one but two replies to her offworld requests for skilled Medics and Engineers. They were for the latter positions - an Irahri MSM and his apprentice. The Irahri were one of Ausruun's oldest allies - the association between their peoples dating back to the hallowed days of Syll-Ár himself.  Technologically advanced, they had been among the first to provide starships and weapons for the Ausruun. Not only that, but their soldiers were the only offworld troops to get personally involved in the land war on Ausruun to drive back the Kervunnu. Much blood was shed by brave Irahri in defense of Ausruuti freedom, something not easily forgotten by either side.  Ever since, their two races had been unshakable allies in war and peace. 

Physically, they were a diminutive, monkey-like race with no fur to speak of (though they did have some patches of hair)  and a startlingly wide variety of skin colors. Against even a teenaged Ausruut, they were no physical match. However, like many races who achieved star travel, the primary strength of the Irahri was not physical but mental. They were utterly perfect for the role of Engineer, and here she was getting a package deal. 

The Irahri pair were, unfortunately, not on planet currently, forcing Syll-ree to conduct the interview through telcom. For that, she had to journey to downtown Satei, to make use of the Starlight communications hub there. Though relatively close by interstellar standards, the Irahri homeworld was still 16,000 lightyears away. Anxious though she was too lock these two in, Syll-ree did not have the patience for the twenty-day lag normal comms would have due to the distance. To get something approaching real-time communications,  she needed a more powerful transmitter/receiver, and that meant Starlight Ansible. 

She took her time, that morning. She made sure she was impeccably presentable - as was only proper for a representative of the Syllhari. Though the Ausruuti had no particular taboo against nudity, they had picked up (ironically from the Irahri themselves) a delight for fashion. One could go naked if they wanted - and many traditional events were still attended only in one's fur - but personal adornment and expression could also be indulged in, if desired. 

For the meeting, Syll-ree chose a gauzy dress that was a bit risqué by Irahri standards. The material it was made of was light and airy, and even the best, tightest weaving of it could not entirely manage to make it fully opaque. It was often likened to wearing a spiderweb. Though it would've been scandalous in person, for a digital meeting it was fine - though actually semitransparent, the fabric notoriously appeared quite opaque on a video screen. It was her best compromise between a professional look and the brutal hundred-plus degree summers that Ausruun was well known for. 

She took an automated groundcar into the city, enjoying scenic views as she zoomed along at high speed.  She could have taken direct control, but did not, preferring to mentally prepare herself. Right now, the Irahri were merely expressing interest. Her goal was to turn that interest into something more. 

The MSM of the pair was an older Irahrn, with cobalt skin and piercingly pale blue eyes. He had over twenty-five years of experience, and was only looking for work now because of his apprentice. His current crew was fully-staffed, leaving no room for another Engineer. From what Syll-ree understood, Irahri took the Master-Apprentice relationship quite seriously,  which is why this one and his apprentice were applying as a pair. 

The main Starlight building in Satei was recognizeable not by its architecture - which was of typical modest Ausruuti style - but by the numerous antennae, dishes, various things that end in '-ceiver', wires, cables, strange blinky-light things Syll-ree had no name for, and other even less recognizeable communications devices - all perched precariously at the apex of the building like the nest of some gigantic telecommunicative bird of prey. It made for an impressive landmark, to say the least. 

The main foyer of the building was thankfully, blessedly cool, and upon her arrival Syll-ree took several minutes just to bask in it.  Her poor groundcar had tried valiantly to keep the cab temperature down, but it just couldn't compare to a building's full HVAC system.

Her first objective was to receive permission to use the Ansible here. She expected no difficulties there - she was an official Starlight Captain, wings and all. The fact that she did not actually [i]have[/i] a ship yet did not matter, or shouldn't in any case. 

The receptionist was friendly and helpful, quickly locating a free conference room and instructing Syll-ree in how to access the Ansible from it. All of this was done simply because Syll-ree had made sure to wear her wings prominently. One glance at that was all that had been necessary to receive the very best service. It was something of a delight that her name and Clan had had nothing to do with it. This was something [i]she[/i] had earned for herself, which made it all the more satisfying. 

The conference room was on the fourth floor of the building, and though there were elevators available, Syll-ree opted for the stairs. As the main Starlight hub for the region, there were all sorts of people conducting all sorts of business here, and Syll-ree wanted to play tourist somewhat. Many of the folk here were from offworld, and Syll-ree could only put names to a fraction of the races and Peoples represented. Call it an ancestral tendency, but Syll-ree had always delighted in meeting and befriending exotic offworlders whose homeworlds and cultures were so very alien and yet so familiar at the same time. 

As she passed the second floor landing, her ears perked toward the sound of shouting in Ausruunti. She paused there, intrigued. The interstellar lingua franca (and thus the language of Starlight itself) was Dhiraxiinn, so hearing her own language made whatever was going on instantly interesting. 

"... You're a degenerate and a liar like all the rest of your Clan! How dare you [i]you[/i] claim to be an Operator!? You expect me to believe that you paid for, attended, and passed Operator training!? Get lost before I put a bullet in you!"

The first voice was gruff and masculine, but not in a pleasing way.  Instead of making Syll-ree picture a handsome, grizzled veteran, the voice made her think more of someone who had spent the last four decades inhaling various narcotic vapors and trusting to their regenerative abilities to keep their lungs operational.

The other party was also male, and sounded closer to her age, "I am [i]not[/i] lying to you, sir! I [i]am[/i] an Operator. It would take you only moments to check - my name is Banari Aardulf. Please, sir- [i]yrraowl[/i]!"

There was no sound to indicate what had caused the second speaker to yelp,  but Syll-ree had heard enough. She threw open the door from the stairwell to the second floor and stormed inside. If the Banari did prove to be lying, there would be hell to pay. If he [i]wasn't[/i] lying (never a sure thing where Banari Clan was concerned), this was a golden opportunity.

It took her only seconds to locate the speakers - one was a portly security guard, and the other was an undersized male who looked half-starved. It was clear that the guard had slashed open the younger male's face - though the wounds were already gone, the blood spilled remained soaked into the male's cheek. 

With all her experience being a Syllhari, it was easy for Syll-ree to march up to them as though she owned the place. She'd have to play this by tail, and hope the Stars favored her. 

"There you are, Ban-aard! I've been looking all over for you! Oh! What happened to your face?"

The young alleged Operator turned brilliant orange eyes toward her, taking in her fine dress and the Pilots' wings prominently displayed at her throat. It took him only a fraction of a second to figure out her ruse and play into it, "My humble apologies, Captain. I have no excuse. As for my injury, it's nothing you need concern yourself with. I...I overstepped the boundaries of propriety and was appropriately chastised for it."

She rounded on the security guard, "He's far too submissive for his own good, sometimes. Perhaps you can give me a more [i]honest[/i] explanation - why did you bare claws toward my Operator?"

The guard sputtered, looking from the young Banari to Syll-ree and back. Finally, he growled, "Just because he got [i]you[/i] to believe his lies doesn't make 'em any less false! It's preposterous to think of a Banari as a ship's Operator! I was fully within my rights!"

Syll-ree's voice didn't waver in the slightest, though it suddenly became quite frosty, "If you had doubts about his claim, why didn't you consult the wristcom and check? Surely that would've taken you, what? Seconds? You preferred instead to [i]bully[/i] my subordinate, apparently. My subordinate who is [i]half your size[/i] and has offered you no threat other than impassioned words. Good thing there weren't any offworlders nearby to witness - what savages they'd think us Ausruuti! Go on,  check his credentials. And mine as well - my name is Syllhari Reena. Well?"

The young Ausruut didn't bat an eye at her name. The security guard, however, became cautious. If she was lying, the Syllhari would get involved.  If she wasn't, and he offended her...well, [i]now[/i] he seemed very keen on what his wristcom had to say on the matter. 

"Captain Syllhari?" he queried the device.  Moments later, his ears flattened against his skull so tightly it was as though they were trying to burrow into his scalp. He practically fell over himself to assure her that he hadn't doubted her word for a second, that he was only doing his job that--

"Now him. Check his creds, like you should have instead of [i]slashing his face open[/i]," Syll-ree growled. 

Gulping, the guard complied, "B-banari Aardulf?"

The widening of his eyes and the way his tail stopped cold told Syll-ree her gamble had paid off. "There's no way..."

"Would [i]I[/i] have come - apparently to his rescue - if he [i] weren't[/i] who he said he was?"

"Of...of course not, Captain. Please, accept my most humble apologies."

Like a proper queen accepting her due, Syll-ree inclined her head graciously, "I am willing to forget certain transgressions against my crewmember if you make yourself quite scarce and do not bother us again."

The speed at which the guard managed to vanish was an impressive feat for someone so overweight. Perhaps magic [i]was[/i] real, after all. 

Once the guard was gone, both Syll-ree and the young Operator let out a sigh of relief. Neither spoke for several moments, each taking stock of the other. 

The Banari was about Syll-ree's height, which made him about a foot shorter than the average Ausruuti male, and very clearly had not lived as pampered of a life as Syll-ree had. He wore no clothing, which only accentuated how shaggy and unkempt his fur was. His fur itself was a deep brown over most of his body, except for his front from his  collarbone to the insides of his haunches, which was an extremely dirty white that had telltale streaks of off-yellow that Syll-ree unfortunately was not sheltered enough [i]not[/i] to recognize as being stains from dried semen. Despite the thickness of his coat, his ribs were clearly visible beneath the skin, and he had a lithe build that spoke more to his abject poverty than any kind of intentional fitness regimen. Despite all of this, he was still somehow attractive, if in a scruffy, tramp-ish way. His only really outstanding feature was his eyes - a blazing, exotic orange that was extremely rare on an Ausruut.

Those captivating eyes were gazing at her with a combination of jaded caution and open adoration. He diverted them to focus intently on the floor as soon as he realized she'd caught him staring, "I cannot begin to thank you enough, Captain Syllhari. I'm...I...I lay myself groveling at your service, Great Lady."

"You can thank me by accepting a permanent contract to Operate for my ship.  I'll even pretend I didn't hear you swear  fealty to me just now, and actually pay you, as well. Nice form, though - one rarely hears the formal submissive mode anymore."

The way the male's eyes lit up and his tail began swishing in excitement was utterly adorable. "You don't care that...about my Clan?"

"Look, to be honest, at this point I'll settle for you being Ausruut and an Operator. Of which you are both. The rest can be lied about, if necessary."

Surprisingly, he bristled at that, although even affronted he was somehow submissive about it, barely showing any teeth at all, "My Clan might be one of the lowest and most disreputable on all Ausruun, but I'd think even you could respect that I have enough sense of honor not to deny the people who raised and cared for me."

Surprised, Syll-ree took a literal and mental step back, bowing slightly after a moment, "I'm sorry. You are absolutely right, it [i]would[/i] be dishonorable to deny where you come from."

Equally surprised by her apology as she'd been by his objection, Ban-aard became quite flustered, "Please don't bow for me, Captain Syllhari. I'm not worthy of [i]that[/i] kind of respect."

She shook her head, "On that, I beg to differ. Already you have shown honor and courage, which are both worth respect. Now, let's not get trapped in a politeness tailchase. I have other business here that I'm already nearly late for."

He fell into step behind her as she returned to the stairwell and continued on her original errand. He followed close enough to be clearly associated, but not so closely that it would be improper. Neither spoke, until Syll-ree had arrived at her destination. Here, she figured, she could see how good he was. 

"Set me up an Anisible teleconference with Master Starlight Mechanic Io Ramna and his apprentice, both of whom are currently at Weixunng spaceport on Irra."

Ban-aard nodded and scurried past her to activate the console and begin typing a rapid series of commands. Syll-ree was impressed - despite having been given only minimal details, Ban-aard still managed to set up the call in under a minute. Now, all that was left was for the recipients to answer. 

"How'd you do that so quickly? I didn't give you coordinates or a satellite address."

He managed to appear both humble and proud, "It's not that impressive, ma'am. Unlike other telecom methods, Ansible is...well, let me use an analogy - if normal telecoms is like throwing a single ball that has your message on it toward your target, Ansible is like altering [i]every[/i] ball that happens to be falling from [i]anywhere[/i] to have your message on it, and then letting your target know where they most likely can 'catch' one. Upon receipt, all the other 'balls' erase themselves, and only the one they 'caught' is the one the target 'throws back'. Once a two-way link is established, it's like a normal call, just ignoring distances."

"What keeps someone unintended from intercepting a 'ball', then?"

He shrugged, "We're hardly the only ones in the galaxy making an Ansible call right now. If someone wanted to intercept our call, they'd have to pick randomly from literally trillions of such 'balls' being thrown around at any given moment. It can be done with luck, but a purposeful interception of an Ansible call is nearly impossible. If one wanted to be extra certain, keyed encryption can be added, provided your target has the proper key to decrypt the message. In this case, I flagged the message for the Weixunng harbormaster to bring to the attention of our recipients. You hadn't indicated a need for strict security, and the harbormaster would have a more direct method of getting in contact with the targets."

The screen lit up, revealing a gray (as in their skin color) Irahri wearing a crisp Starlight Harbormaster uniform.  Quickly assessing them both, he focused more on Syll-ree as the likelier Sender, "Greetings, ma'am. I have received your relay request, but unfortunately the individuals you seek are mid-atmospheric transit at the moment. Once they're past the blackout layer, I'll see to it they receive the connection. Just sit tight for a few minutes."

The 'blackout layer' was not a 'layer' of anything, really. It was a Spacer slang term for the approximately five-minute window during reentry during which no communications could be made to or from a landing craft. 

"Very well, Harbormaster. Thank you for informing us," Syll-ree replied graciously, wondering what her potential Engineers were up to that they were crossing out of orbit. 

It didn't take long for the connection to be properly established, revealing a pair of naked Irahri who were clearly in the middle of repairs of some sort. Their nudity was surprising until Syll-ree recalled the last time she'd been in the actual engine room of a starship in motion. In space, heat transfer was an ever-present issue, one that was nowhere more obvious than in the engine room, where temperatures could reach heights enough to make even Ausruun's brutal summers seem like deep winter on an iceball planet.

 Ausruuti MSMs - as were those of many other furred races - were easily recognizeable by their extremely short-cut fur. Many also opted to lather themselves in cryogel when actually doing work in the engine area. 

Neither Irahri appeared to be slick with cryogel, but they [i]were[/i] clearly sweating heavily. One was on his back beneath the actual engine with his legs sprawled out and giving Syll-ree and Ban-aard an unexpectedly high-definition view of his genitals. Judging by the graying pubic hair, that must be the MSM.

His apprentice was tiny, almost half his Master's height (as much as they could tell with the former currently supine), and clearly youthful. He still had a considerable amount of what the Ausruuti would've called 'puppy fat', and his strange-looking penis and scrotum had no hair to speak of yet - a prepubescent, maybe? Or perhaps that was simply the style among his peers. He was crouched next to the MSM's legs, holding various tools at the ready for his Master. 

The MSM nudged his apprentice with his foot, "Go answer that call, boy. See what it's about."

Moments later, the apprentice's youthful face appeared large on the screen, "Calimante Engineering; who, may I ask, is calling?"

"Captain Syll-ree and Operator Ban-aard. Your Master has a meeting with me?"

Clearly having overheard, the MSM could be heard in the background, swearing, "Stars damn it! I had completely forgotten! Quick, Radún, get my overalls and help me out from under here!"

With an apologetic bow, the youth vanished from the screen,  reappearing next to his master with an MSM jumpsuit and helping the older male wriggle his way from beneath the engine. Once he was free, the MSM traded an earpiece and a tool for the clothing, "Get under there and keep an eye on the thermostat. If it goes into red, or if Operator Sura tells you to, use that tool to manually open its valve. For Star's sake, though, don't have your face right under it when you do. Also, let Sura know that Riger wasn't wrong - they'll need to replace that t-stat."

Once he was properly dressed, the MSM appeared at the console, "Apologies, Captain Syllhari. Our meeting had entirely slipped my old mind. Please forgive me."

"It's quite alright, Master Ramna. Your ship comes first, of course. Speaking of which, though, am I too late? Has another crew stolen you before I could?"

The Irahri laughed, "Not at all, Captain. This is some off-book work for my cousin, whose own MSM recently had a nasty injury that he's still recuperating from. We Irahri are unfortunately not as hardy as you Ausruuti. Anyways, I am merely helping a family member - my apprentice and I are still very much available to sign on with you in an official capacity."

Syll-ree's tail swished once before she could still it, "I see. Well, then, let's get right to it, then - the ship being built for me as we speak will be a Logos-class hybrid hover/chemthrust design with a state-of-the-art telecom suite and basic array of point-defense turrets of a primarily space-oriented model. Tell me what you know of such a ship, and any issues you forecast regarding its performance."

She ignored Ban-aard's strangled exclamation at her description of the ship. When her father had said he'd be commissioning the very best ship money could buy, he hadn't been speaking idly. 

The Irahri Engineer looked thoughtful, "Logos-class ships are normally planetside craft - most I've ever heard of have been entirely propelled by hover technology. They're nimble and quick, and their size makes them excellent in tight spaces, though they are known to be a technically challenging vessel from a Pilot's perspective. To get the most out of a Logos, you need a very experienced - or very good - Pilot. I've not heard of a dual hover/chemthrust design, but I'd imagine it would be fairly suitable for stellar travel. However, hover engines can't be shut off entirely, and frequent entries and excursions to and from atmo would put a great deal of wear on the pads. Additionally, though efficient and reliable, chemthrust engines are notoriously ponderous even in ideal conditions. That all being said, the only major issue I would forecast with any confidence is physical damage. Unless yours is to differ markedly from others of its class, it'll be only very lightly armored - it's by no means a battle-ship."

With a brief glance in Syll-ree's direction, Ban-aard spoke up tentatively, "With respect, sir, Logos-class craft [i]are[/i] weakly armored against kinetic weapons, but their performance against starfire artillery has been exemplary in field testing. The original Logos was designed specifically as a mobile command and control center which was almost completely immune to the typical non-kinetic orbital attack weapons of its time. Additionally, the class has for many years been well-known for its electronic warfare potential, a role which the Ausruuti military - for one - employs it in."

Even the Engineer regarded the Banari Operator with some respect at that,  "She said you're an Operator? Gonna be [i]our[/i] Operator? Well, if she's testing me, it's only fair I test you. What's the minimum number of pads to get a Logos in the air, and why?"

"Technically, four, if you're in open air. My recommendation would be six, generally. In either case, you need an even number of pads for straight lifting, to keep the ship balanced sound its center of mass. If you're in motion, a skilled Pilot and Operator could conceivably keep aloft on only two, but if you're running on just two pads in the first place, you're probably not blessed with such a pairing. Counter question - what's the best solution if a rookie Pilot accidentally crashes opposing pads against each other, midflight?"

"That's a trick question - 'opposing' pads never come near each other. But, if you had said 'allied' pads, I'd say get the Operator to cut power to 'em, and blow their shake-off charges."

"But that would lose you two pads on the same side!" Syll-ree exclaimed, earning a scornful look from both of them. 

Shaking his head, Ban-aard explained, using gestures to supplement, "A pad [i]crash[/i] is when two allied pads physically bonk each other hard enough that they partially fuse at the point of contact. This greatly destabilizes their respective fields, and causes the surrounding hull to warp around the competing hovercores. If not jettisoned quickly, the situation can cause an entire section of the hull to torque itself apart, with obvious repercussions."

"Couldn't you just shut them down for later repair?"

This time it was the Irahri who answered, "You could, if both the Engineer and the Operator pounce on the issue and get the pads de-energized [i]immediately[/i]. But if you're flying hard enough to crash pads, you clearly have other things to worry about. It's faster and safer to just boot 'em."

The conversation went on, the Engineer and Operator quizzing each other - each trying to prove themselves to Syll-ree, but also to each other. This was a good sign, really. The MSM and Operator both were in charge of keeping the ship flying, so naturally they had to have a tight working relationship - it was crucial they trusted each other.  

She let it go on, occasionally throwing one or the other questions (sometimes to test, sometimes out of genuine lack of knowledge), until a polite younger female entered the room, informing Syll-ree that her time with the Ansible was nearly up. Syll-ree thanked the girl, then turned to her two 'interviewees', "Well, I've seen - and heard - enough here to make my decision. Master Ramna, current projections have my Logos being completed in five weeks. Will you be able to be here by then, for the maiden flight?"

"My apprentice and I will be there, Captain, you have an Irahri's word on it. Until then, Stars favor you."

"And you as well, Master Ramna," Syll-ree replied, then cut the connection.

Turning to Ban-aard, she said, "[i]You[/i] are going to be more difficult to hire on."

It was a little heartbreaking, seeing Ban-aard's confidence shatter completely at that statement, making her quick to explain, "No, it's not your performance. You did well with Master Irahri, and I'm fully confident in your ability...but..."

"It's my Clan, isn't it?"

"Not for quite the reasons you might think! Listen, as terms for funding the construction of a brand-new ship, my father gave himself veto rights to any crew member I pick. [i]I've[/i] seen enough to think you'll be a good choice regardless of your Clan...but now we have to convince my father as well."

He straightened resolutely, "Ok, then what do I need to do?"

She sighed, "I don't know, yet. Come home with me and meet him. Maybe the Stars will favor us and he'll like you. Like a lot of Ausruut, he can ignore a lot of negatives about someone he likes...sometimes unfortunately."

As they left the Ansible room, Syll-ree fretted about her plan. Ban-aard was knowledgeable, to be sure, but was he the Operator she needed? Was she pouncing on him because she hadn't found someone better? How could she convince her father if even she wasn't sure about the Banari?