Delta - 16.3

Harry looked down at the two guns hanging from her side, which were a bit beat up but were still in pretty good condition for their old age. And she didn’t really understand what was odd or little about them, or how Bahtaa could continue to condemn more mechanical weapons after seeing the guards carrying automatics. Times were changing in that military.

“Then you are not a fan of the way that your military is moving?”
“If you mean the standardization of automatic weapons, of electric weapons, then no, I am not a fan. And would you please learn back the words and expressions of your people.”
“Don’t like the words that I picked up from the humans?”
“I don’t think they’re appropriate for a princess.”

They made their way down the corridor, passing hundreds of soldiers and townspeople along the way, each one tipping their hat or saluting Bahtaa, and addressing Harry with a state of shock. Within a few days, their expressions would be gone and replaced with salute, or Bahtaa would probably hit the witness with ver cane. No matter the outcome, Harry was looking forward to seeing the events go down.

“What do you think is appropriate for a princess, Bahtaa?”

The general did not answer her, simply kept walking down the stairs until they met with a solid, black door, and tapped lightly with the knocker. It was in the form of someone’s family crest but melted heavily, probably damage from a bombing to the shelter. Either that or someone took a heated iron to strike it out. In this case, Harry preferred to think of the door as victim of a bombing, making the situation she was walking into less shady.

“I think that a princess should follow behind her bodyguard.”

They opened up the door, ducking down to make it under the tree growing right at the doorway. The two of them stepped into a sort of underground forest, which had all of the types of plants that Harry had missed in the Garden. This place was slowly coming back to her with the realization of who they must be going to see.

“Cara should be happy so see you. When you left, they were going towards a time of change but in this work, I believe they have found themselves.”
“So what are the appropriate references to make?”
“Oh.”

Bahtaa stared at for a moment while thinking about the question. Harry wasn’t exactly sure if there was a gentler way to say that she didn’t want to misgender one of her greatest friends and was simply asking for a pre-warning.

“Do you understand what I mean?”
“They, are uh, very feminine and care for the corresponding pronouns.”
“Ah. Thank you.”

They continued through the basement of plants and Harry looked up to notice the small animals that were running through the veins that hung just above them. She took her canteen from her side, lifting a small amount of water out of it and shaping it into an ice ball, handing it up to a small monkey. Or at least that’s what human sectors had called them: monkeys. Harry knew them as monks, probably a name that hung around from when Nerot had left its own language to claim the standardized English of the Federation.

A call came for them out of the forest, followed by someone rushing forward in light blue and gold robes.
“Ehrie.”
Another set of arms joined around her own, squeezing some of the air out of her lungs and leaving her standing a little off balance. She searched around in her mind for an appropriate reaction, before settling back into the greeting and looking down at the person who was holding her. Even after all the time that had passed in between their meetings, Harry would never have forgotten Cara.

It just wasn’t a possible thing.
Anyone would agree to that.

“It’s uh Harry, now.”
“Why would you want a name like that?”
“The Federation prefers it to be that way, Carak. You should be someone who understands changing names to serve a further purpose to help someone else.”

No.

Cara.

Carak was their name.

The arms left from around her sides, with Cara pulling the limbs across their chest and holding them in a relaxed defense position. The arrangement borrowed Harry to the point where she wanted to reach out the move the arms, for fear that Cara might let her powers go without meaning to. It was Harry’s fault if she might be pissed, for calling her by an old name without more of a thought. As she started to reach out, Bahtaa intercepted the issues.

“Cara, do you have the items that I requested from you?”
“The garments and the weapons? Yes, I do.”

Cara scuttled off to some far corner that was still protected by darkness and Harry grabbed ahold of Bahtaa.

“You already had clothing made. How?”
“While I am not a particular fan on implementing these new parts of technology, I can use it when I want it to be convenient.”
“What did you do?”
“There’s a body scanner on the front gate and you passed through it three days ago, giving Cara and a non-official tailor time enough to create several full suits in varying uses.”

The figure returned with a chest long enough to fit a proper saber, giving Harry a slight hint to what had been placed in the box. She was not a particular fan of swords and certainly preferred to stick to the electric weapons that she had learned in the Sector, but if she was going back to the Calvary…

“Here are the things that you asked for, my General. Two casual suits, one formal suit and three appropriate for fighting, as well as several cloaks, boots and as many of the weapons as I could obtain. Some of them will take a bit longer, depending on if you wish to get them through another government or on the black market.”

Harry had never taken Bahtaa for a person who was willing to go to black market sources but once she started examining the weapons in the trunk, there was a clear amount of danger to the situation. The first gun that she picked up was a Federation brand phase revolver with a modification for electric rounds. Meaning instead of the five lead shots she could fire, it would go for five thousand electric before needing treatment again.

“These are very nice folks and I hope you remember that I said dresses are not my thing.”

Cara looked up to her while talking, “There are no dresses. I made sure of that fact. Perhaps we should go up to your quarters to examine these, rather than doing anything down here.”

Harry picked up an aquamarine and crimson cloak, running the material through her hands, carefully stuffing it back into the trunk and following the others up the steps. She had counted on the costumes taking weeks to form but now she was faced with making a new plan.