Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine

out of your hole and sit where we can see you.” She turned back to LaRenna with a smile. “She doesn’t bite, Third Kimshee. You know how her kind is—all bluff and bellow.”
Quall emerged from the corner grim-faced and settled into the chair next to LaRenna’s. “I might bite.” She sneered and smoothed the generous folds of her instructor’s robes. “It’s been rumored that I’ve consumed more than one of my students.”
“By the Maker, Quall! I’m warning you to behave yourself.” A hide scroll sailed across the room, narrowly missing Quall’s close-shorn head. She flinched and sank a little in her chair, a difficult feat for one of such fleshy dimensions.
“All right, Wreed. I was only funning her. It serves a purpose and you know it. My pupils always leave here thoughtful and respectful of their superiors.”
LaRenna had never known Grandmaster Quall to back down from anyone—before now. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have imagined Quall bowing to the will of someone like the dainty Master Yeoman. Why, she was almost as small as LaRenna was herself!
“I agree with you, Quall.” The grudging admission chilled Wreed’s otherwise pleasant expression. “But I don’t always care for your tactics.”
Quall reached a ring-laden hand to pat the Yeoman’s forearm. “Point taken, my dear. I’ll mind my manners from here on out. Now, let’s tell the young woman why she’s here.”
Wreed shuffled through the mounded scrolls on her worktable. “There was no mistake, Third Kimshee Belsas. You weren’t on the posting list for a reason.” Smiling at her success, she held up her inkstained hand—“Here it is”—and passed a small signal recorder to LaRenna. “Believe it or not, I do use modern technology on occasion.”
LaRenna flipped up the viewer and pushed the replay marker. Surprisingly, the face of one of her raisers, Taelach of All Belsas Exzal, appeared on the thin crystalline screen. LaRenna remembered playing at Belsas’s feet when many such messages were sent and, until this moment, had always been envious of the far-off recipient. “LaRenna, my child, I request for you to take a special posting requiring all your abilities and talents. You are to report to First Kimshee Krell Middle on Langus for further details. I believe you are the only one capable of carrying this post to its needed fullness. This is hazardous duty, so you cannot be forced into accepting it. Please advise Grandmaster Quall of your decision. I am forever your proud raiser. Belsas out.”
Placing the recorder on the table, LaRenna cast the Master Yeoman an inquisitive look. The message had been exceptionally bare of decision-making information. “What does she mean by hazardous?”
“We can’t tell you much.” Quall’s hand continued its gentle grip on Wreed’s slender arm. “They’ve kept us in the dark as well. But nasty rumors are circulating about doings on Langus. Seems the locals are in a tizzy over the recent base expansion. Talk is of removing it, by force if necessary.”
LaRenna’s stare proved incredulous. “If it wasn’t for the presence of the base, the Iralians would have decimated Langus twenty passes ago! Look what they did to Myeflar.” She stood so quickly the force sent scrolls flying from the Yeoman’s desk.
“We’re aware of what happened during the initial Iralian invasion, Third Kimshee Belsas. Please sit down.” The Yeoman hissed recognition of Quall’s low chuckle as she retrieved her scattered scrolls. “It’s rumored that one of the Branded’s been sighted as well.”
“But they’re all confined inside the prison colony.”
“A few occasionally escape into the Jungleland clans,” shrugged Quall, still humored by the yeoman’s disorganization. “And there are still others who simply disappear. None of them has had the equipment to go off world thus far. Seems someone managed to rig up a launch. Probably smuggled it out of the colony piece by piece.”
“Correct.” Wreed swatted a scroll at Quall’s outstretched hand. “Not a word from you, Quall Marie Dawn. I know where everything on this table is as long as someone doesn’t upheave my system. LaRenna, you know as well as we do that the colony is forever having internal problems. I’ve seen many a good officer corrupted by the black market there. Whoever escaped definitely had high-placed backing.”
“And what am I to do about it?” asked LaRenna. “I haven’t completed Kimshee training.” Her superior’s blank expressions showed they knew nothing more. “What’s my option if I reject this post?”
Wreed sighed and retook her ink-spattered stylus. “There’s a training spot available with the new Kimshee posting at the number four cell charging station on Vartoch.”
Quall laughed heartily at LaRenna’s long frown. “I’ve yet to meet a Kimshee who embraces the idea of that post. Your things have been packed for you. The launch for Polmel leaves in an hour. You’ll be on Langus in two days.”

Chapter Five
Foolish is she who shows the paleness of her face after the sun has risen for she will surely be burned.
—Taelach proverb
The faint rays of first dawn were peeking over the horizon when Krell Middle sank her bare toes into the cool white sands of the southern Langus shoreline. This was the ideal time to be out if one was Taelach. The fishing boats had already set out and morning call had yet to be sounded at the base on the hills above the shore, leaving the sands deserted. Once, Krell could become lost in soul searching and reflection in the ocean sounds on mornings like this, but not anymore. The echoes of growth invaded her meditations more and more. Construction progressed around the clock, work lights shining onto the dark, algae-heavy waters, diminishing the splendor of the coming morn.
Shadows from the grassy dunes danced and lengthened in the starlight. Saria Proper’s shadow passed over the sunrise, returning Langus briefly into night. The sand brush cracked against the rough canvas of Krell’s duty leggings as she climbed to the top of a small dune near the waterline. Once on top, she pulled a thick stem of grass, placed the salt-laden blade between