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“See me as Daesah? That’s a tall order, doc,” Jace admitted.

“But not impossible! No, no, not impossible at all! She did listen to you in the end,” Dr. Hayter pointed out.

“They sent warships to greet us,” Khoth remarked dryly.

“Ah, but that was just them rattling their sabers! It was to be expected, even if a little disappointing.” Dr. Hayter beamed again. “Pilot, I know we’ve always hoped that the aliens we met would be so much more advanced than we are. So much wiser and more enlightened.”

“Yeah, not saying that they aren’t just…” Jace scrubbed the back of his head.

“But this is actually better. We can understand them. They can understand us. We’re all muddling through together,” Dr. Hayter said with a contented smile. “Oh, look! Buildings! My, aren’t they beautiful!”

Over Jace’s shoulder, Khoth could see the curved long hanger of the spaceport that was just outside of Ylore’s limits. The city itself glittered and reflected the multi-colored sky on its reflective surface. It was almost dazzling.

“Prepare for landing, gents,” Thammah said over their comms. “It’s a beautiful day in Haseon. For you unsophisticated humans, it is 74 degrees fahrenheit. There is only 20 percent humidity. No chance of rain. So you’ll be very comfortable after the desert.”

“Thanks, Thammah,” Jace said. When he caught the others looking at him. “I’m not going to say everybody’s title all the time. Not when it's just us, okay?”

“I think that is linguistically efficient! And it brings a greater sense of comradeship,” Dr. Hayter pronounced.

“Good, I’m glad. Because it was getting old already.” Jace grinned.

“Let me guess, you still want us to call you Commander?” Davies asked.

“Yes, I do and you will call him Pilot. Discipline can be eased going down, but not up,” Khoth answered simply.

“Understood, Commander.” Davies didn’t look annoyed at all.

“We’re landing! Oh, and, of course, there is quite the meeting party!” Dr. Hayter gazed, open-mouthed, out the window.

Jace groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But Khoth didn’t catch the rest of what Jace was going to say. For though there were several low-level functionaries--his mother had not met them herself just as Jace had not met her, he supposed--waiting to greet them, there were two people whom he couldn’t quite believe were there. His heart was in his throat with dread.

Justiciar Typhon Moturin stood in the stately dark blue robes of his office of the High Court. He was accompanied by various other members of his illustrious family and houses that were attached to him. Khoth both was and wasn’t surprised by Typhon’s appearance here.

Their relationship had ended long ago and Khoth’s heart was untouched by it despite how tangled it had been. Meeting Jace had unwound his mind in many ways about how one-sided that relationship had been. But there had been one aspect that they had never settled between them. Typhon disapproved of his mother’s plans for the Alliance and he had always urged Khoth to take a stand.

Now Khoth had.

And Typhon had decided that the political winds were in his favor. Khoth wished to tell Jace that this was a good thing that Typhon was here. If the Justiciar was throwing his weight behind the Pilot then that meant there was a political will outside of him to do so.

But it wasn’t Justiciar Typhon Moturin who drew his attention. It was his father. His father was standing there, all alone, waiting for him.

Emotional Storm

There was a soft thump as the dropship made contact with the landing pad. The engines stirred the air and the robes and long hair of the waiting Thaf’ell were blown back. Typhon, looking handsome and virile, was hardly disturbed by it. In fact, it almost made him look like a movie star. The Tom Cruise of the Thaf’ell world, still able to look good even in backwash.

Where others put up a hand to block dust and dirt being blown into their eyes, Typhon merely squinted a little bit, as if he were looking off into the distance and something touched his soul. His long hair that was braided heavily with selchitte on the sides danced behind him like a white flag. His dark blue robes molded to his muscular, masculine form. So if Jace had hoped for a professorial type with a soft belly and faded looks, he would have been sorely disappointed. Typhon had the appearance of someone fit and at top of their game.

Jace swallowed the anger--and little bit of insecurity--he felt. Somehow he had to behave like what he was: the Pilot. An emissary that was going to change the Alliance. The one who had the logical answers for why others should follow him. Not a kid who suddenly felt out of his depth, jealous, and uncertain of himself.

The training didn’t address this, Jace thought morosely.

Khoth meant so much to him. He had since the very beginning. Coming to Haseon and realizing that he hadn’t won over as many hearts and minds as he hoped had brought him back to Earth in a lot of ways. But with Khoth beside him, he could weather whatever came. But what if Khoth wasn’t there?

Don’t be stupid. This is the guy that hurt Khoth. He wouldn’t want to go back to him no matter what support he’ll offer to my plans.

With the dropship down, everyone began to unbuckle their seatbelts and get up. Gehenna bumped eagerly against his legs. She was in her adorable ball form, rather than the scary spider form, and was clearly eager for him to set foot on Haseon and to meet Khoth’s father.