“Whoa,” Rene said, putting a supporting arm around Solae’s back as she sat up. He exchanged worried glances with Lasha but the Syshin did not appear to be particularly concerned. With the ease of long practice she began crushing unfamiliar herbs in a stone pestle, their sharp and bitter aroma’s tickling the humans sinuses. Once they greenish brown mess was judged to be appropriately pulverized she poured the crystal clear water into the pestle. The water shimmer briefly as the oils that the pounding had freed floated on the surface of the water. She let it steep for a moment before pouring it carefully through a piece of fine porous cloth which acted as a strainer. The resulting mixture was greenish cloudy brew.

“You drink this,” she commanded, pushing the cup into Solae’s hands. Although she could likely sit up by herself Rene was reluctant to remove his supporting arm. His heart had nearly stopped when he had heard her scream and in his mind she hadn’t really returned safely until she spoke. Solae took the cup and drank, making a face that indicated that it was about as pleasant to drink as it looked.

“I don’t want to question your skills Lasha,” Rene began carefully. The Syshin girl planted both fists on her hips, a guesture that seemed particularly alien because of the way her multi jointed arms bent. To a human mind it looked as though her arms were broken in several places.

“We trade healing to farmers sometimes. Many are worse off than your bonded Rene Bonded of Solae,” the girl said forcefully enough to chagrin the marine. In a gesture of courtly acknowledgement, he inclined his head, a traditional way of acknowledging a correction and asking pardon. Being near Solae evidently recalled him to the mannerisms of his childhood and he wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing. Solae gagged slightly but finished the remainder of the drink with stoic determination before placing the earthenware cup down with a slight thump. Lasha watched her suspiciously for a moment as though she might attempt to spit the mixture back up and then relaxed.

“I’m glad you are alright,” Rene declared, wrapping Solae in a careful hug.

“When I saw they had taken you, I…” Rene trailed off uncertain of how to end the sentence. For a moment all he could see were the faces of her captors above the sight of his weapon, cruel and triumphant. He could not let her fall into the hands of such men, not even if it meant his own life.

“Rene Bonded of Solae killed many men,” Lasha observed in a neutral voice, clearly uncomfortable with the concept of killing but wanting to credit him. Syshin morals, like human ones, often found themselves I’ll suited to the situations the world forced them to face. Rene shrugged his shoulders, uncomfortable with even faint praise for such an act. Hopefully the Syshin were out their right now, burying the corpses where they would never be found. The disappearance of a party of slavers would be far more useful in protecting the encampment in the future than a pile of bodies would be.

“Solae of the Empire deserves praise also,” Enro declared as he emerged from the corridor. He made a strangely formal bow to the diplomat, pressing his palms together tightly and leaning forward until the plumage at each elbow touched before straightening. The elder Syshin as very clean now, a marked contrast to his dishevelment after the battle. Rene wondered if it were personal preference or a cultural drive.

“Without her bravery, the second group of slavers might have taken many of us. They would have had no mercy when they learned had befallen their fellows,” Enro observed. Rene nodded his agreement, although truthfully would have prefered she not expose herself to such risk. He had sound tactical reasons he could have come up with but the truth was that he couldn’t bear to think of Solae coming to harm. Try as he might to suppress his feeling for her, they still filled his mind more times than they didn’t.