The Black

Mac and Lyrian woke up the next morning and dingy’d for the shore. Clint was there with Frie and Hera, Darclemus and his wife Clarise were there as well and were talking with the three of them. Tristen and Juelana were walking up from the Tram station with their 3 older kids. Icario and Tili Were going to spend the day with Silo, Ami and family for the day. Gwen was in her Auntie Gwen mode and had the galley at full song making food as the ferrying of people to Silver Lass commenced.

An Hour later, everyone was on board and settled in along the deck and aft quarter.

“So, you promised to tell me How she makes her way.” Clarise teased from her position sitting on windward side of the pilot’s bench, “What kind of engine does she use?”

“She has an engine, but we don’t use it much” Mac smiled down at her as he unbuttoned the Sail covers, “We use wind and tide” He paused his conversation with her as the cover went below to be stored in the Forward Lazarette, “Start takin’ in the Anchor!” he called to clint who was forward by the windlass controls. Lass was a hybrid of old and new. Her rig was centuries old, quite possibly the only wind powered vessel on the planet, but her electrical power core was modern Delmar fusion technology and all of her winches and her windlass had an electrical option to make short-handing more easily achieved. Lass’ started drifting to the leeward as her anchor broke free and and Mac started hoisting the mainsail, “Helm a’lee, let’s take it on the beem shall we.” he called to Lyrian who had come above to snag the tiller. Clint was already next to her on the Jenoa and then the Yankee Sheet winches. In moments Lass bloomed as the two Brothers set her canvas afly, then she surged in the light serf as sheets were tightened and the Canvas went ridged under the press of 30 kph winds. It was not warm by Delmar Standards, 15 Deg with a promise of 19-20 for a daytime high. Everyone was dressed semi-warmly, but the cloudless sky made for a beautiful and pleasant day.

Various shouts and comment of surprise were had as Lass picked up her pace, heeling moderately to the press of her sails. Mac looked back to see Lyrian lightly leaning on the tiller, watching the streamer and the sails to keep them drawing properly. He walked over, and she handed off the tiller to sesttle next to him on the pilot’s bench. “That’s never going to get old.” she hummed as she leaned to him, but her eyes quickly fell elsewhere as she caught both Frie and her sister watching Clint intently as he finished trimming Lass’ sails for the broad reach to the south.

“No engine, you never turned it on.” Clarise said.

“It’s certainly very quiet. How fast will she go.” Dar asked, walking up to the main boom, and running a hand over it as if feeling the power harnessed.

“10 knots, er, about 18 Kilometers an hour in a blow. Right now, we are doing about 5-6 knots, about 11kph.” Mac ran the mainsail sheet to a Kleet on the tiller and an elastic band with a tensioner to another from the other side, he looked up and tightened the elastic band until he was satisfied. “And now, the Lass will sail herself, without auto-pilot.” And she did, every time her bow drifted a little windward, the main sail sheet would lose tension as the mainsail depowered, and the elastic band would pull the tiller towards itself, causing the rudder to shift slightly and swing the bow back around the leeward until the wind was drawing properly again and the main sail tightened up its sheet again due to the wind pressure.

“How did you figure that one out.” Tristen sauntered over, maybe waddling a bit in the swell and movement of the cutter.

“I didn’t, this technique is centuries old.” Mac said.

They spent the next couple of hours sailing southward until Mac got everyone to sit low, so the boom would not hit anyone. Then he gave the tiller to Lyri once more and called out instructions to her as Clint and himself plied themselves to the sheets once more to round her about to reverse her course. They chose to tack into the wind instead of jibe, and the Canvas luffed and flapped slightly as they passed through directly upwind.

Soon Lass was once again gathering speed as she took the wind just aft of her beam on the other side.

“Smartly done. Lyri is a quick study.” Gwen had been watching from the main hatch, “You two always did love these old boats. Sandwiches are almost ready.” she went back down the hatch to be chased by Juel and Lyrian to help. Soon everyone including the kids had hearty ‘ham’ sandwiches on thick cut Delmar ‘Rye’ bread. Belly’s full, Mac gave each of the young ones a turn at the tiller with a little lesson, then let them run the tiller through a tack each as lass zig zagged her way up and down the straight. Soon it was mid-afternoon when Mac turned her up into the wind and dropped the Anchor almost back where they started. The swell was 2 meters, but it was in long slow oscillations, and everyone relaxed on deck talking, visiting and exploring the ship as she rocked gently to her anchor.

Mac leaned up against the Mast with Lyri leaned against him, her back pressed against his chest with his arms around her belly. She wasn’t quite showing yet, but Delmar pregnancies were quicker than Human ones; so she would be soon. Both were watching Clint, Frie and Hera. Clint was in the middle with Hera and Frie cuddling close for warmth. To Mac’s surprise, no one seemed to care, especially the Delmar contingent on board.

“I may need to have a talk with my brother. I thought he would know better than to…” Mac began to grumble before Lyri interrupted him

“I don’t think you need to. In fact, don’t say a single word to him. I suspect he has enough on his plate.” Lyri said.

Mac turned her around and wrapped his arms around the small of her back, “Oh? You know something?”

“Remember how I told you that the marriages are arranged, but the Female makes the final yes, or no?” She waited for his nod, “Well, that’s the way it's done when other family is around. Frie’s and Hera’s Grandparent are passed, and Their parents are away on Voyage. What happens when there is no one to do the arranging and vetting of the male, and two females want him?” She paused as Mac pondered.

“Ok… I see where you are going, but I don’t understand how it can be done without at least one person leaving hurt and rejected.” Mac finally responded.

“That’s because Delmar do not have the same emotional drive to find a mate. Let’s take you and I. I didn’t choose you because you were hot, or super good-looking, or because you were super warm and comfy. I chose you because I saw a Kind man, strong enough to protect my family. Who could be extremely violent, yes; but knew when not to be. I knew instinctively, that I was both safe from you, and with you; that my children with you would be safe. That your drive to protect and work would always keep us provided for.” She kissed him on the nose, “Delmar females don’t fall in love, James. They choose to step into love. We don’t have casual intimate flings because those emotions lie dormant until a Claiming. I liked you, I cared for you, I knew I wanted you to be my life mate. But I did not ‘love’ you as Humans do until our wedding night when I claimed you and chose to release those feelings. The claiming is the one and only time a Delmar female can ‘fall in love’. That’s why it’s so dangerous, why I was so nervous when I gave myself to you the first time; and why we take it so seriously.” Mac pulled her into a tight embrace before giving her a brush of his lips on her neck.

“So, those two are ‘fighting’ over who gets to claim Nitro?” Mac stifled a chuckle, then sobered.

“Yes and no. It is a competition of sorts, but it is also a ‘vetting’ process to use one of your words. We still rely on our instincts more than Humans do. You can call this stage a ‘crush’. Frie and Hera’ have a crush on Clint. As he spends time with them and reacts to them as they pursue him. He will prove himself more compatible with one of them or the other, or neither of them. Whichever female becomes the ‘winner’ will end up being more dominant in the interactions with the other beginning to feel more familiar or simply friendly toward the male as her instincts push her towards realizing he isn’t the right match for her.” Lyri finished the explanation.

“This is going to suck for Clint,” Mac whispered, “I hope he explained a few things. Because If they ‘interact’ with him in intimate ways too many times. They may end up making him very romantically emotionally attached to both. Forcing him to choose if he ends up ‘loving’ both would be very painful for him.

“You have to trust him, James; just like I have to trust my Best Friend.” She answered a bit more sagely than she felt. Mac caught it and just chuckled.

“But we can still worry about them.” He said as he watched the three talk and huddle together.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Ivar and his three survivors of the Battle over Delmar were just finishing adding the kindling to the bottom of their memorial pyre when he heard a familiar voice.

“What’s up, Hombre!” Called Martina as she led the Human pilots up to the very confused Ivar. They were dragging various folding chairs and coolers with them as they greeted the Delmar pilots.

“I don’t understand. Why are you guys here?” Ivar asked.

“To enjoy the party. And to stand with you, in honor of the ones who didn’t make it home.” one of the other pilots stated, handing Ivar a Human Beer. He nodded his thanks and took a small sip. Human beer was significantly more potent than the Delmar equivalent, he would have to take care of how much he had through the night.

He turned to Martina. She was a strange one to read. She was shorter than most of the Human females that he had seen roaming around during their ‘shore leave’. She cut a feminine figure in her green-trimmed red dress with green shawl wrapped around her. “I’m still not understanding, you are not Delmar. None of your comrades died here.”

She gave him an odd look before walking him away from the crowd, “We know… It’s a Human thing. Our earliest records of fighting in the air were one of respect and Honor, even among enemies. Over the centuries, men from both sides of a conflict would occasionally refuse to shoot down, or even protect a disabled foe. Humanity has kept trying to keep this tradition, to varying degrees of success; because in the end, we are part of a rare group, the ones who tread the sky of our own volition. That transcends culture, species, and even battle lines to us. Your pilots died. We are all pilots, Pilots are family. We stand with our family.”

“I think I understand, thank you.” Ivar looked down slightly ashamed in not catching on sooner, just to get pulled down by surprisingly strong arms into a human hug.

“Now! The boys have a little something we would like to add to the pyre.” Martina said, releasing him.

She waved over a group of guys and produced a bag full of little metal wing-like insignia, one for each of the pilots lost. One by one the prongs on the back were driven into the wood with a human fist, a tribute to the Fraternity of The Black.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mac and Lyri finished off-loading the last of their passengers and Mac’s communicator beeped, “Oh, well things just got interesting.”

“Luv?” Lyri asked as she tucked away the last of the Galley bits and bobs.

“The Brothers Grem are here, and they say that ‘It works’.” Mac said cryptically.

“What works” She asked.

“You’ll see, it’s a human tradition that matches up with Brush’Girmon.” he said.

Mac drove them to the shore before kissing Lyri a quick goodbye and running to the house in Vito to pick up a firepit grate/ grill for cooking and some meats and veggies. He grabbed a bag full of cooking firewood. Tonight was going to be a feast.

The festivities started around dinner time. Mac was not the only one who brought food. Brrush’, as everyone shortened it to, was a kind of potluck festival. Mac had a roaring fire going with a massive chunk of meat slowly spinning above it and Delmar mixed with Human Veggitables cooking below on the grate. He would slice a piece of cooked meat off his rotisserie and add some veggies and hand them out to whoever wanted some. Lyri was helping with the plating and soon Clint, Hera and Frie made their way over to hang out. Icario wandered by quickly with Tili, Silu, His wife Mari, and Ami in tow. Ami was delighted by the veggie plate that Lyri whipped up for her. Silu was still on soft foods but Mac gave him a bottle of water so he could participate. Silu’s twin Grandchildren showed up around that time and Their mother absolutely had to steal Lryi to give twins advice. Mac noticed Gregory wandering around the Event, but he had not made his way over to them yet. Friends, family and strangers all passed through making the rounds. Tili and Mari took Silu home while Icario manned the fort to let Mac, Lyri and Clint wander the rest of the food selection before it became to dark. The Brothers Grem were off toward the seaside with a big squat square bod that was angled out over the water. And they were fiddling with wires and data pads.

“Oh, this will do,” Mac said as he handed out a couple of plates to the grateful scientists.

“You still haven’t told me what they are.” Lyri pouted.

Bart stood, stretching his back for a moment, “Remember when we were given the formula for Human Chemical powered weapons? Well, Humans apparently have a love for explosives that truly defies definition.”

“Explosives?” Lyri took a tentative step back.

“All quite safe luv, these will be electronically activated from a safe distance. It’s a two-stage ordinance. One to launch it into the air, then the other to explode it in bright colors a few hundred feet up. Humanity Calls them ‘fireworks’”. Mac soothed as Lyrian gave him a sideways glance.

“Humans and their need to make things go boom.” Chuckled Bart Grem.

“Dam fuckin’ straight!” It was Greg, “Is this what I think it is?”

“If it works, yea. “Mac laughed clasping hands with the man. “Don’t you tell a dam soul, not even the stick jockeys know we got this planned.”

“Consider it Classified.” Greg laughed before saluting with his beer and wandering off.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The Sun sank below the horizon and the pyres were lit. The Memorial Pyre was lit after a Delmar Funeral song was played followed by Human ‘taps. Gregory was wandering aimlessly around the festival area. He had no real interest in going anywhere in particular, or meeting anyone. He was just enjoying the beach and the warmth of the fires as the temperature dropped. He was in his ‘civi’s’. Blue Jeans, a sweater, and an old Leather Jacket he had had since his WSO days. ‘Hmm I wonder when the fireworks are going to start’ he was beginning to wander back to where the Grem’s were setting up when he stumbled into a lone figure. He dam near bowled her over and had to catch her, she was so light. He turned her around to find a Middle aged, but still stunning Delmar female in a dark sweater and dark pants. Her sweater had the logo of Lucid Traveler on it.

“I’m sorry ma’am, Are you ok Ms…” he began.

“Margaretti Solvilque, Just Marg is fine Mr…” She responded somberly

“Commodore Gregory Burgoyne Ma’am. Greg to my friends.” he bow’d slightly

She gave him a small smile, “I’m sorry, I may not be good company Gregory.” She turned back to the Memorial pyre as the flames licked at the now blackened likeness of a Delmar Ranger. “I lost my youngest getting back to warn everyone.”

“You’re that Marg, my condolences.” Greg took her hand, “Good or bad company, you need not be alone.” He hooked her arm under his and walked over to a local vendor and snagged two Delmar beverages handing one to her, “I’ve lost my share of those around me. Even ones I called closer than blood. A toast, to the remembered. To your son…”

“Brayton. To the remembered.” she said weekly and took a sip. They turned back to the pyre for a moment and Greg felt her shiver slightly. He had drastically overdressed for the weather, and quickly wrapped the jacket he had stripped off earlier around her.

Quinn Grem finished wiring up the remote and both Brothers walked back to the main event. Bart gave his brother an evil smirk and hit the start program button.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Luckly the two scientific maniacs had done it right, and balls of sparkling fire began to shoot up over the water, scaring some, surprising others. The whoops and cheers from the Humans aided to calm the terrified among the Delmar. The display lasted 5 minutes. It was dominated by Silves and Auburn, but reds, blues, yellows, and whites were also sent a-fly. The entire event applauded after it was over.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Over the next weeks and months. Things slowly began to wind back up. The first of the Human Freighter Crews would be arriving within the week. Lucid Traveler had been repaired and heavily upgraded with Human defensive systems and targeting systems modified to work within her Power envelope. She had a new subspace drive as well, complements of the Delmar Confederation for heralding the warning that quite possibly saved Delmar.

Mac had steadily trained up the new recruits to the fighter defense wings. He was also set to Command one of the new Rapid Response Fleets that were being jointly built to provide trusted protection to the Freighters of both Humanity and Delmar. Mac had complained until the design of the fleets had been shown to him. He had made one request, “These fleet. I have a name for them. Unity insists on calling me a ‘Demon’. They are incorrect. Our name… is legion.” He had gotten his request.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Lyrian spent the last 3 months of her pregnancy at home in Terran Gravity to ensure the twins she carried would develop properly. Her father had kept a close eye on her and the babies. Scans had discovered that the twins would come out looking identical to a Delmar, but would be Human sized and have the additional Human organs and bone structure requirements that Delmar lacked. They would need to spend their first year in as much 1g terran as possible grow healthily. Lyrian didn’t like being house-restricted during her last trimester. She lost a bit of her progress for being able to handle Concord but Being in 1g terran had kept her from losing too much. She had experienced Déjà vu when her mother had walked into the house using the key but forgot to hit the code outside to lower the interior gravity. Lyri had awoken to a scream of shock and had waddled down the stairs to the controls as her mother struggled against getting flattened. That afternoon, Mac set up controls at the top of the stairs so that the incident wouldn’t be easily repeated, or at least remedied more quickly.

The day came. Lyrian was never going to be able to deliver a human-sized baby. The birth had to be surgical, and a Human Nurse was flown down from Tranquility to help Monitor the Children from their home in their natural gravity.

Little Brayton had typical Delmar coloring, hair, main, tail, and patterns. His Eyes, however, retained His father’s Ice Blue’s. The little girl Lyrian named Trisiria after a distant aunt that had passed when she was younger, and She retained her mother's eyes and features.

The Schedule was to upgrade the freighters and finish training Legion in time for the Next Voyage season. It was still up in the air if Captain Silu would be well enough to take command by then. Until then, Traveler sat in drydock as the workers finished her second lease on life.