----------------------------------------------------------- - The Ta’ainvel - – By Khan – ----------------------------------------------------------- 14. He arose naked in the middle of the night to stand by the windows in the bedroom. Charlotte was still sleeping with her long brown hair draped around her head on the pillow. He returned his eyes to the dark Sanctum below. He had found that he loved this Human woman utterly and had done so since he had comforted her after the death of the last brigands what seemed a lifetime ago. His feelings were matched in her, he could feel that, but he still wondered what would come out of a love between a Ta’ainvel and Human. It had happened very rarely before and no one had heard the end of those tales since the couples moved away from normal society and its judgements. Judgements, yes. The Humans had shunned their own for falling in love with someone of another race. What would the Ta’ainvel do? How would they react to one of their own falling in love with a Human? And the First pilot, no, the Commander he amended himself, at that. His fears of what his people would think, and do, held him by the window for another hour. Then he found his thoughts not really caring anymore. What does it matter if I love someone not of my own kind? It was no different than in the ancient days when a black- furred Ta’ainvel wasn’t supposed to show any feelings for the yellow-furred, not to mention the red-furred. Or was it? Of course it was, this was a Human, not simply another Ta’ainvel of another fur-colour. Then again. Their difference was merely the accident of evolution. If it had been the Arathurian equivalent of apes that had evolved into sentient beings, they would not be different at all. There were no big differences now either, only appearances. They had found during the night that they indeed were compatible in all the ways that mattered. It would soon be time to start the day and Jante didn’t return to the bed. Instead he crossed the dayroom into the bathroom and took a shower. He put a towel around his waist after drying out most of his wet fur and went to put on his overall and jacket. He found Charlotte standing by the windows in the dayroom looking out, as he had, into the Sanctum. She must have heard his light footsteps. ”The Sanctum is very beautiful at night,” she said, not turning. ”Yes, it is,” he replied. ”I know you think so. Never for once believe that a woman sleeps when her man is troubled.” She turned. ”I could see your fears on that black-furred back of yours as clearly as if I had read a book. You are afraid of what your people will think of you for having a relationship with a woman of another race.” ”No. I am not afraid anymore. My love for you suppresses those fears.” Yet he was afraid. Not of what his people would say, but afraid of what Ayshala would say. They were brother and sister but during the twenty years he had known her they had on more than one occasion made it into more. It had never evolved into more than closeness but still he wondered how she would react. ”No, Jante. You still have them, only buried somewhat deeper than before.” He sighed as he looked at her across the dark room outlined against the window. Gods, how he loved that woman. It didn’t matter that she could read him like an open book, it only made him love her even more for knowing him so well. And he loved her a little bit more because she hadn’t delved deeper into his thoughts than the general emotions that he showed. ”You’re right. I don’t want them to think anything bad. Not about you.” was all he said as he turned and walked into the closet. It would soon be six am and he hurried into his overall and jacket. He put on his fur boots and gold bracers and then fastened the communication device to his ear. Picking up his headcap and a bundle he once asked for from a shelf, he walked out of the closet to find Charlotte still standing naked by the window. She had turned back now, looking out. ”You shouldn’t care really, what they think,” she said. ”No, I know. And I don’t care. I just don’t want them to think anything bad about you.” And I don’t want Ayshala to hate me for loving another woman. ”I know.” ”Now, come on. The medics said that you are physically healed, though somewhat weak, and that you can start your theoretical training immediately.” He walked up to her, stroking her lightly scarred stomach, and held out the bundle containing a blue overall and a green jacket. Charlotte looked up at him and smiled. ”Alright. I’ll be along in a minute.” She walked into the bedroom to put on the clothes. Gods, how I love that woman, Jante thought again. He also found himself wanting Charlotte to stand naked in the dark before the window again with the starlight illuminating the Sanctum below. She really was beautiful if furless. And so his thoughts returned to the questions about what his people would think. Would they call her names and shun her? Would she not be allowed to become a pilot? No, he didn’t think so…but it might still happen. She was still fastening the segmented metal belt when she came back out. The uniform fitted her perfectly as he had been given her measurements by Anna. As she walked up to him, Jante placed a communication device in her left ear. It quickly extended its microphone and asked for voice identification. ”Its been pre-programmed with your ID and current rank. You just have to say your name into it now for it to be fully tuned to you.” She did and Jante heard in his own device that ’Second pilot in training Charlotte Westings’ was logged into the system. Ayshala and the former commander would also hear this in their communication devices. Which reminded Jante that he still had the task of thinking up a new title for the commander. Amazing what strange things crossed one’s mind when faced with problems. He led her through the still dark corridors to the bridge and as the clock in his communication device reported shift start, they walked through the doors. She quietly asked about ‘this shift business’ and he explained that two out of three working shifts currently had a pilot on the bridge. This would go on for the next month or so until they were sure that the Gravity Fold Drives worked as they should. Then they would all have the same working hours that would be longer and span almost two shifts. However, he said, there will be no pilot on the bridge as such. They would work as mobile commanders, taking in reports all over the ship and being where they were needed. He led her through the room to Ayshala’s empty chair and showed how it worked. ”This will be your place in a little time, in theory at least. As I said, you will spend very little time in the bridge itself for the next eight years. This has become common practice among these colony ships only. On the ordinary starships both pilots spent their entire waking time on the bridge as the trips those ships usually made only took at most two days.” Walking out of the room with Charlotte he reported that he would be back in a few minutes. The corridors were slowly lighting up and more and more people walked through them. Charlotte studied the people and the passageways making an effort to remember both. Jante brought her by elevator through the command section and downward past the Sanctum and the small docking bay beneath the bridge. Soon they reached the section where the green jacketed pilots housed their fighters and carriers, and where new pilots trained. ”You’ll have to learn the Ta’ainvel language over time but right now you will be just fine. I’ve instructed your tutor to speak to you in Dinathinian,” Jante said to her when she asked about language problems. ”Or even English if you like,” he continued as Jonas appeared when the elevator doors opened. ”He is my tutor?” she asked incredulously. ”Yes. His force commander has a very high opinion of him and considers him, with his previous training in Human aviation, to be fully educated. I believe you are up for promotion, are you not Jonas?” ”Yes, I am. Now, come on Charlie, we’re going to be late for your first lesson,” he said grinning. ”Watch it, you are still younger than me,” she replied walking out of the elevator. ”Only by fifteen years,” Jonas laughed as the doors closed.