It was well after dark when Deej finally returned. Dar-Amon had actually made a little more progress on the screen as the male argonian had put him back in the window when he kept mewling towards it. However, he had to be careful not to alert him to what he was doing.
The two argonians greeted each other with a hug and Deej took Dar-Amon off the window and he let her pet him for awhile as the two settled into their bed for the night.
Skalen patted the bed beside him, asking his mate, “How did work go?”
“Busy. They expect to go out again tomorrow afternoon so we’ve been prepping the ship both inside and out. Some crazy argonian tried to sabotage her, and they said something about a khajiit that tried to do the same thing. Can you believe it? We had to go through every damn system making sure all the valves and controls were back in their proper place. It was a mess!”
“Oh, I heard! We had a new group of recruits in to to do ballast training and they were all talking about it. She came over with them, but they didn’t know her. The altmer seem to think she and the khajiit are working for Elsweyr.”
“I sure hope not! That would mean they know about the ship! We’re supposed to be secret. If word gets out we’ll probably all be out of a job.”
“I know.”
“Say Skalen, do you ever wonder what they’re doing when we’re out at sea? They never let the crew see anything. Just order us around.”
“Oh, I’ve wondered plenty. Those tubes they launch seem to be the main purpose. And you say the whole ship vibrates afterwards?”
“Oh yeah! Violently! I thought she was coming apart! One of the compartments completely filled with a burst bulkhead before the argonians inside managed to patch it and pump out the water. If there were any altmer in there at the time, they’d be drowned. It was a huge shake to do that, I promise you! I still think it was some sort of explosion.”
“Well, they never told us that we’d know all their secrets. Still glad we joined?”
Deej crawled on top of Skalen and they touched tongues. “As long as I can live with you here, I’m fine.”
Dar-Amon decided now might be a good time to return to his blanket-bed and he padded off across the floor, unnoticed.
“Yeah. Me too. But this may not last forever.”
“Don’t say that. You’ll jinx it.”
“I hope you’re right, but if we ever get pregnant, we should go back to the Hist anyway.”
Deej wrapped her tail around her mate’s tail tightly. “That would be awfully nice. Wanna try again?”
“Forever I want to!” Skalen smiled and she snuffed out the candle with her fingers deftly.
Dar-Amon had been watching, fascinated. The biologist in him was suddenly alert. While argonian bodies had been prodded and examined plenty, as far as he could tell, no one of any other race had ever actually seen argonians copulate – and the argonians wouldn’t talk about it.
Though the candle was out, and the room was certainly dark to any human or argonian eyes, his khajiit eyes had plenty of light from the moonbeams coming in through the window. They might as well have been kissing under direct sun to the gaze of a khajiit. And if he might have some not-quite-so-pure reasons to watch them as well, he still convinced himself he wasn’t being some common voyeur. He was doing it for science!
Two hours later, the argonians finally parted for the last time – Skalen rolling back to lie beside Deej on the bed.
“Damn, Deej. You were fantastic! Something gotten into you?”
“Just you, Skal. Just you. Maybe if you let me have a pet more often, you’d get more of this!”
“Lady, I don’t think I could take much more of you! I swear I felt you up to my chest!”
“Heh. Same! I could feel you under my scales. I bet one of us is pregnant this time!”
“I almost hope not. I want to do that again tomorrow night.”
“Hell with tomorrow night, I’ll wake you up in the morning!”
“I dare you!” he said and leaned over her.
The two argonians opened their mouths wide to apply their tongues to each other’s, before professing their mutual love. A few minutes passed, then Deej nudged Skalen.
“Skalen?”
“Yeah?” he replied sleepily.
“I think something’s wrong with Mekal.”
“The cat? Why?”
“Look at him. Does that look right to you?’
Skalen slid over his mate and lit the candle again.
The cat was backed up against a wall, shivering, his eyes wide and staring at the two.
“Aww. Poor thing. I think we scared him. Come ‘ere Mekal. Come on, I won’t hurt you.”
The cat’s eyes just stared at him, as if the mind behind them was completely blasted by something he’d seen.
“Silly cat,” Deej said, and stood up. The cat’s eyes kept staring at her lower body for some reason. She picked up the shivering cat. It didn’t resist, and it began to calm down after she’d talked to it softly for a while. Skalen returned to the bed, but Deej sat up with the cat long into the night, singing it argonian lullabies until finally it went to sleep between her breasts.
***********************************************
“Ropes… wake up,” Ra’Jirra whispered.
The argonian shifted a little, and Ra’Jirra had to nudge her.
“Mmm?”
“Your turn. I’m tired.”
Wears-Only-Ropes got up off the blankets that their captors had thrown in and groggily traded places with the khajiit.
“Oh!” she whispered when she’d seen the work Ra’Jirra had done. “You’ve almost got it loose!”
“Almost,” Ra’Jirra yawned. “Wake me when you’ve finished it. I’ve got to get some sleep.”
“You let me sleep longer, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. A little. If we manage to get out of here in the morning, you’re going to need energy to get away.”
“That was foolish, but I thank you anyway, Ra’Jirra.”
“Don’t mention it. Just get that damned plank loose. I’m tired of looking at it.”
The guard had come in a few times, with food and drink as well as to change out the pot, but he fortunately hadn’t been interested in looking about the place and left as soon as he’d accomplished his task. Wears-Only-Ropes tried to talk to him, but he didn’t say a word even in Jel.
“Well,” Ra’Jirra thought to herself as she fell to sleep, “At least we’ll have a way out before too long.”
She never really had much hope of the Alfiq rescuing them. In fact, she was more worried for him. He was a pretty small khajiit, after all. Maybe some kind argonian took him in. The world could be a dangerous place for a little cat like him.
Dar-Amon looked down at the cove below him as he stood on the edge of the jungle. From this vantage point he could see the whole of the complex of hastily-constructed buildings, the dock, and the underwater ship there. He’d have to remember the layout as best he could, because once he loped down into the area he would be looking at everything from about a foot and a half from ground level, and from that perspective it was easy to get lost.
Though he never said it, that was one of the reasons he tolerated being petted like a true cat. It gave him a better view. Of course, there were other reasons too.
And then the warning alarm went off. Expected really. The altmer were fond of their wards, and to erect a base like this without them would have been more of a surprise. What he could do, he wasn’t sure of. His specialty was espionage, sneaking in where unsuspected and eavesdropping were his stock-in-trade.
Then he saw Ra’Jirra race from the jungle on the other side of the cove towards the ship and he decided he had to do something. She was obviously going to get caught or killed – it looked like she was on a suicide mission to blow up the ship. Not much he could do to help her there, he convinced himself. And, to be honest to himself, it didn’t sound like much fun. He had his own heroic streak, but the opportunity for an Alfiq the size and shape of a small cat to do anything truly heroic was limited.
Still, if she survived and was imprisoned, maybe he could do something for her there. He started down into the cove at a trot and saw her descend into the ship, with a large contingent of argonians and altmer running after her. If she managed to blow the thing up, it was going to be a terrific explosion, so he kept one of the buildings between him and the ship for protection.
But a few minutes passed and nothing happened, so he peered around the corner and saw her being unceremoniously manhandled by a large argonian and carried bodily towards the large building that was obviously the altmer headquarters. The ship showed no signs of being damaged in any way. Plus, he couldn’t help noticing that her bikini bra had been rendered pointless, and he felt a bit ashamed at himself for that.
“Ah well,” he decided when she was out of view, “I can’t help what I am. I guess I’m on a rescue mission now.”
He circled around in the back of the various smaller shacks and buildings towards the main one until it came in sight. Argonians were milling about now, the excitement over, and the routine was getting back to normal. He noticed a tall palm tree beside the headquarters that he could climb. He could leap from there to the roof, then onto one of the balconies on the top floor. If he could catch one with an open door…
Suddenly he felt hands wrap around his abdomen. “Aww! Look at you, little kitten. What are you doing here?”
He looked around at the face of a female argonian. The teeth looked strikingly large and he hoped she was just smiling.
“Skalen, come look!” she said to another argonian nearby. “A kitten!”
The male came close and made as if to pet him. Dar-Amon had to decide quickly if he wanted to fight or go along with the ‘Nice Kitty’ routine. But circumstances being what they were, he decided to play nice. He started to purr as the male scratched his neck.
“Aww. He’s so cute!” said the male. “What are you doing here little fella?”
“Oh Skalen, can we keep him? I’ve always wanted a pet!”
“Deej, you know what happened last time.”
“That was an accident! Oh, look. He’s purring. He likes you.”
“He is cute. But surely he’s somebody else’s pet. Somebody must have snuck him over on the ship.”
“Well, we can’t just let him wander around. It’s dangerous for a little kitty out there. If someone owns him, I’m sure they’ll be looking for him. We’ll just keep him safe till then. Come on, what do you say?”
Dar-Amon began to worry. He’d played the pet many times before. He could handle that. But that bit about it being dangerous worried him in two ways. First, it implied he might be stuck inside or in a cage and not be allowed to roam. But second… dangerous? He’d seen nothing so far to worry about on the island, but he’d just gotten here. Maybe there were cat-eating beasts roaming around out there! And then, of course, there was the question of just what had happened to this female argonian’s last pet. It sounded ominous.
“Alright,” the male relented. “But you’ll have to train him to use a sandbox.”
“Oh, I will! You wouldn’t shit on the floor, would you little kitty?”
“If it gets me out of your house, hell yes I will!” he thought.
But he played the nice kitty and let her carry him into a small room in a dormitory building. The room had only a bed, door and a window, but the pair of argonians seemed to not mind. After they’d set him up with a sandbox, a blanket for a bed and a pair of bowls for water and food, the male had left to go back to whatever work he was assigned.
The female doted on him for hours though, and he began to get anxious about getting away. He mewled at the door, but she just picked him up and put him in his sandbox.
“No, dammit! I don’t have to piss!”, he wanted to say. “I want to go outside!”
Finally he gave up though. It was obvious he wasn’t going to be let out anytime soon. This female needed some cuddle time, so he did his duty and snuggled up with her. He did rather like the stroking.
“What’s your name, little kitty?” she asked as she lounged with him on the bed. “I guess I’ll have to give you one!”
Dar-Amon moaned internally. He’d had a spate of names in the time since he’d been turned into an Alfiq. None of them he liked. Most were too cute, some were so obscure that he never did figure out their meaning, and some were just some bad pun. He’d been ‘Boots’ three times already, but he’d decided ‘Chairman Meow’ was the worst.
“Whiskers?” she seemed to ask him, and he hissed his displeasure. “No? I know. How about Mekal. It means Fierce Devourer. You tore into that food. Are you a Fierce Devourer?”
He considered that. Yes, he decided. ‘Mekal’ would do. He rather liked it actually. Besides, he liked the word ‘fierce’. He started to purr and pressed his head against her hand.
“Mekal it is then,” she decided.
Then she stood up and began to undress, saying, “Now you stay here, Mekal. I’ve got to get ready. I’m working on the ship tonight and Skalen won’t get back for a few hours yet. Will you be alright all by yourself?”
Dar-Amon made a nest for himself on the bed and settled down, cleaning himself while he watched her move about the room. While he preferred his own species, he could still appreciate a finely-tuned female argonian figure too, and Deej was a prime example of her race. He purred. Sometimes his job had its perks.
An hour later she left, closing the door behind her and Dar-Amon was left alone. “Finally!” he said aloud, disregarding the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to leave while she was dressing.
He looked up at the window. It was open, but screened. At least it was inset into the wall so if he could manage to get to it, he would have a place to sit and work on that screen. The daylight was waning and there were no lights in the room. He judged the distance. This wasn’t going to be easy. He leaped.
He was shy of the distance by no more than an inch, landing back on the tile floor gracefully. He tried again, this time with a bit of a running start. He almost managed to get a claw on the ledge before he tumbled back to the floor.
Once more. Same result.
“Damn,” he said. “So close…”
He looked around the room. There was the wardrobe where Deej had got her clothes, but that was far too big and heavy for him to budge. Then there was the laundry basket where she’d put her old clothes. He tried pushing it, but it didn’t move either. There were a lot of clothes in there. The blanket might work, if piled up, but it was pretty heavy for a cat too. Other than that, there just wasn’t much to work with here.
And then he realized what he had to do. He looked back at the basket and looked within. Yes, it would probably work, but he’d have to get everything out of it by hand first. Well… by mouth.
He swallowed his pride and jumped into the basket, then back out with the argonian’s bra in his mouth. This was going to take a while…
When he was done, there was a pile of clothes on the floor, both feminine and masculine. The pair obviously shared this room. But the job was done and it was time to try to flip the basket. He jumped onto the edge and the basket rolled out from under him, skittering across the floor. The second attempt worked better, but he ended up underneath it. For a second he was worried he’d be stuck here, but the basket was light and he managed to pry a claw underneath it and scurry out from under it. Then he nosed it towards the window until it was just underneath. With a running start, he jumped from the floor to the basket and immediately up to the window sill.
“Yes!” he cried, though keeping his voice down. By now, night had come on in full and he heard voices outside the window. Fortunately he was on the ground floor. Then he began working on the screen.
It was made of a metallic grid. Fuck.
The strands were small, but not easily torn with claws. He extended his own and looked at them, then back at the screen. This was going to take a while, he realized. Too long. The male would surely be back before he even came close.
“Oh well,” he sighed to himself. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
Then he got to work, concentrating on a single strand near the bottom of the screen, so it wouldn’t be obvious when the argonians returned. He’d managed to get three strands cut before the door opened again.
“Well hi there Kitty!” said the voice of Skalen and he withdrew his claws as the argonian picked him up off the sill and sat him back on the floor, up-righting the basket and putting the clothes back in.
“Smart little guy, aren’t you?” he said. Dar-Amon meowed.
Ra’Jirra was unceremoniously dumped into what appeared to be little better than a broom closet, and the door locked behind her. It was nearly pitch black within, but her eyes soon adjusted to the gloom.
“A khajiit? What are you doing here?” whispered a voice from the gloom, obviously argonian.
“Getting imprisoned it appears. You?” Ra’Jirra answered quietly.
The argonian’s head lowered to to her chest. “Failing.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I need to do a little clothing alteration. I got my bikini top ripped.” Ra’Jirra said and proceeded to tie it back together sufficient for modesty if not fashion. The rest of it was barely hanging together by threads anyway.
“Well, welcome to the Dominion prison. I don’t think they really thought they’d ever have to put anyone in here before, or they wouldn’t be storing all this stuff in here. And that door isn’t reinforced. We could probably pry it open with some of these tools.”
“If there weren’t a big hulking argonian on the other side. I suspect that will just get you some bruises at best,” Ra’Jirra said.
“Oh. It’s guarded? I wouldn’t know. I was unconscious when they threw me in here. We might as well introduce ourselves. My name is Wears-Only-Ropes. What’s your name?”
Ra’Jirra turned to look at the argonian closer. “You are Wears-Only-Ropes? Really?! I was looking for you! My name is Ra’Jirra. I’m an agent of the HMSS from Elsweyr.”
“Me? Why?”
“You survived the wreck of the Imperial ship right? At least, that’s what the rumor was. Reached us all the way in Elsweyr that there was a survivor. Mostly I wanted to learn what happened, but from what I’ve since found out, I think I know already.”
“Did you come in through the cove? You must have seen that underwater ship.”
“Oh yes. Hell, I was in it. Tried to destroy it, but apparently the water-bullets are stronger than I’d hoped.”
“You tried to destroy it? When? I did too!”
“Just a few minutes ago I guess. I tried to destroy their powered bombs.”
“I went for the engine room in the back. Weapons would have been smarter.”
“Yeah, well I accomplished nothing but getting myself thrown in here for all my smarts. Frankly, I’m surprised I’m still alive.”
“Me too. They certainly don’t need me. But they don’t know who I am.”
“No? Oh. That could be helpful,” Ra’Jirra said and her brain went into action.
“Wears-Only-Ropes, we’ve got to get you out of here. You are an eyewitness to what happened, and you’ve seen the underwater ship out there. The Imperials and Hammerfell will listen to you. If we can’t destroy that ship, your testimony can still prevent a war and get the two human nations to know who their real enemy is.”
Wears-Only-Ropes considered it. “But, I’ve got to destroy that ship! They killed every friend I had!”
“Let me handle the ship. If you see a chance to get out of here, take it. There’s an argonian named Geeus in Archon. Try to find him. He’ll get you back to Cyrodiil or wherever you want to go, but they must know what happened. If you did destroy the ship no one will know, and eventually the altmer will just build another. Do you think you could swim all the way to Argonia from here?”
“Ra’Jirra, I’m a sailor. I live at sea. Swimming from here to Argonia would be nothing.”
“Then do it.”
“If I can get out of here, I will. But how do we do that?”
“I don’t know. I have a friend out there that may be able to figure something out, but don’t count on it. He has… limited physical ability.”
*****************
Hours later, nature reared its ugly head. There were no provisions for them in the room either.
Ra’Jirra knocked on the door. “Excuse me, Mr. Guard sir. We… have needs. Can you at least get us a pot or something?”
She heard no sound from the other side.
“SIR?” she called.
The door opened and a large pot was shoved through the door. Ra’Jirra got a look at the burly argonian’s arm. It was as big as her thigh.
“Well, judging by what I saw, we’re not getting past him easily,” she told Wears-Only-Ropes. “And I don’t think we’re going to be able to pry that lock free without him noticing.”
“Damn. It’s not like this is a proper cell anyway. Just a glorified broom closet really.”
That started Ra’Jirra thinking. She looked at the ceiling but it was solid rock. One wall was also solid, but the other was just wooden. She looked at Wears-Only-Ropes. “What do you think?”
“Going to take a while, but apparently we have time.”
They scrounged around for tools for a little bit, as quietly as they could. Wears-Only-Ropes came up with a stout wire from a bucket handle that she bent back and forth until it broke in two, then they both rubbed one end against the solid floor until they’d fashioned a couple of serviceable gouges. Then they moved a shelf to the other wall and began scratching at one of the wooden planks.
Some time later the door opened and they quickly hid their tools, trusting in the darkness of the room to give them a split second. The argonian said nothing but took the pot out and they heard the lock turn.
“Whew!” Ra’Jirra said, finally breathing again.
“This is going to take an awfully long time,” Wears-Only-Ropes said.
“Going anywhere?”
The argonian chuckled and got back to work.
Some hours and two pots later, the door opened again.
“Cat.” said their guard.
She looked at Wears-Only-Ropes whose fear was evident, but she slid the wire gouge under a shelf and stood up.
“Come,” came the raspy argonian voice.
“Man of few words,” Ra’Jirra said, but he grabbed her arm with a vice-like grip and led her out.
“And no sense of humor,” she added.
An altmer was in the hallway where she saw a chair had been set up beside the door. She noted the room beside where her ‘prison’ was. It appeared to be some sort of classroom, large and with windows that looked out on darkness now. If they could get out through the wall, that would afford them a good chance of escape.
The altmer led the way up two flights of stairs and down another hallway to a large room at the end. The altmer opened the door and her guard forced her into the room. She noticed he stayed inside, guarding the door with his body.
Within, another altmer rose from behind a large desk. He wore a uniform that bespoke a high leadership role in the Dominion.
“Well! So it is you. Welcome Ra’Jirra. Won’t you sit here? Yes, I know who you are. You’ve cost us quite a bit recently. And now it looks like you’ll cost us one more agent in Rihad. You’re not quite as dead as reports say.”
Ra’Jirra stepped forward and sat at the seat offered, though she couldn’t suppress a smile.
“Let me introduce myself, Ra’Jirra. Sorry, but we don’t use our real names. I am Number 4. I’ve been assigned this little task for the Dominion as you may have guessed.”
“Wasn’t hard to figure out,” Ra’Jirra said with a snarl. “If only you look.”
“And yet, your Imperial friends and Hammerfell never look beyond each other’s borders. I have a proposal for you, Ra’Jirra. One that might allow you to keep your head on your shoulders.”
“A proposal for me? Please, no one here is stupid enough to believe I’m going to help you! Except maybe that guy,” she said, thumbing the guard at the door behind her. The argonian could have been made of stone for all the reaction he showed.
“That is unfortunate, but may be true. Did you know, Ra’Jirra, that Hammerfell isn’t the only foreign power in talks with your government to switch alliances? What will you do if we should become allies? Will you still remain our adversary?”
Ra’Jirra thought about that. The thought disgusted her, but she knew better than to dismiss the possibility.
“I work for Elsweyr and the Mane. If that should happen…”
The altmer finished for her, “you might find yourself helping us instead of hindering us at every turn! I want to talk to you for a little bit, Ra’Jirra. The khajiit and the altmer may have more in common than you think. I am not one of those racist altmer who believes that no other races are worthy of our respect, you see. In fact, it is my belief that – if your Mane would only think about it – our goals are surprisingly similar.”
Ra’Jirra eyed Number 4 warily. “I think not, altmer. We of Elsweyr have honor! We don’t murder innocent sailors on the open ocean without so much as a warning or a chance to surrender!”
The altmer’s eyes squinted in anger, but soon recovered. “I understand why you would see it that way. If given another alternative, I would agree with you. But perhaps you will see that our choices are limited. Let me show you something.”
The altmer cast a spell at a blank wall, which suddenly came to life. It formed a window of sorts, but what she was looking at, she couldn’t quite comprehend.
“This, my fine adversary, is the future. What do you see?”
Ra’Jirra looked at the window that was not a window. “You can see into the future? How?!”
“Oh, not I. But we do have scryers who have delivered these images to us. Ra’Jirra, they are absolutely terrifying. I want you to see why. Look closely and tell me what you see, please.”
She rose from her chair and stepped towards the wall, putting her hand up against it to verify it was still there behind the moving pictures. The images showed people. Thousands and thousands of people, and vehicles of a type she couldn’t comprehend. The buildings around which they walked were tremendous, colossal things that seemed to be built of purest silver or glass.
“What am I supposed to see, altmer? Other that someone’s badly imagined nightmare.”
“Oh, it’s a nightmare all right. And even the scryers admit it’s just one of a number of possible futures, depending on actions we take now. But look closer, khajiit. Look at the people.”
She looked back towards the wall and squinted. Number 4 did something with his hands and the image zoomed in to a small patch where hundreds of people were walking in different directions. She saw young, old, male and female. Then she noticed it and she took a step back.
“You see it then?” Number 4 said.
“There are no tails.”
“No. No tails at all. And no mer ears either if you notice. No green skinned orsimer either. No, Ra’Jirra. There are only humans. Fantastic variety, but still all human.”
Ra’Jirra looked at Number 4. He was looking at her intensely as he waved the spell away and the wall returned to normal. She sat back down in the chair, heavily.
“What happened to us?” she asked.
“Wiped out of existence. Completely eradicated. Every argonian, altmer, bosmer, orsimer, dunmer… everyone but humans.”
“But… this is only one possibility. Right?” Ra’Jirra said, but her voice trembled with sincerity. If what this altmer was saying was true…
“Yes, Ra’Jirra. But our best estimates say this is a possibility that is getting closer to reality by the day. Ra’Jirra, the humans are good at technology. Damned good. And magic is fading. We altmer are the masters of magic, but we cannot stop it’s dissolution. The cause eludes us, though we are certain it has something to do with the gods.”
“You’re afraid of technology,” Ra’Jirra said.
“Of course we are! You should be too. You know Hammerfell is ahead of everyone. This underwater ship we’ve created wouldn’t last two seconds without magic to keep it together. Some of our most powerful mages are here to keep it running. Ra’Jirra, we’ve got to stop the humans, or at least slow them down till we can approach their abilities. And not just the altmer. Your kind are not great magic users, but you are, more than any other race on Nirn, the most dependent on it.”
“Us? We don’t use magic!”
“Khajiit, you are magic! How on earth do you think a race can vary from a nearly-human form all the way to the Alfiq – just by moon phases on the birth date? Come on, you are smarter than that. Your very existence depends on magic. Yet you are helping the humans. I know you think we are your enemy, but for once try and think beyond politics and collateral damage.”
Ra’Jirra looked at Number 4. She felt her world had been shaken. Could the Dominion be right? She couldn’t refute what he’d said.
“I… You give me pause,” she said honestly.
“Good. You probably know there’s another Hammerfell ship coming tomorrow. It’s the only explanation for your hasty and ill-conceived attack on the ship today. We will hold you and your argonian compatriot for just another day until we have completed what needs to be done. Then you will be released. Return to your Mane. Tell your superiors what I have told you. Perhaps cooler heads will prevail…
I know you, Ra’Jirra. I followed your exploits in Rihad with the khajiit cryptologist. The plan to eliminate you was badly planned, poorly executed and frankly a mistake. Those who conceived the plot are no longer with the Dominion. They were misguided and antagonistic towards you personally. That is not the way of the altmer. I cannot deny that we do believe we are superior. It’s inherent in our society. But I think we are wrong in that. Each race has superior traits, it is true, but all can share the world. We can share it with the humans too. But if they continue on the path they are on without intervention, the future you saw is inevitable.”
Ra’Jirra stood up. “You have given me much to consider, Number 4. My duty to Elsweyr is constant, but it may be that I have misjudged you and your motives. I can promise only that I will think about what you’ve said. And relay it to my superiors. But the attack on the Hammerfell ship, I cannot condone.”
“I understand. It is a thing that should not be necessary. But we believe it is.”
“Then I remain your enemy,” Ra’Jirra said defiantly. “Until such time as it is pointless.”
“It is already pointless. Go on then. Take her back to her cell, Pak-sha.”
bdfanfic 