T’sala wanted to scream. T’sala wanted to hit something. It was only when the Rumsey’s voice rang out loudly did T’sala realize she was doing both.

  “Ain’t nothin’ Thunder did to cause it! So you don’t need to be takin’ it out on em.” The small-framed driver leaned forward and patted the front console by the guiding wheel. “It’s alright, she didn’t mean it, by the looks of it, she lost the one she loves. You know what that’s like dontcha?” T’sala could see the Rumsey was speaking to her through the mirror that reflected her knowing and, oddly compassionate, look. The tones were soft, and she had the eyes of the mothers of the tribe when a loved one was sick, almost to death.

  That thought rallied T’sala; she did not want the Rumsey to think of her mind as sick. She may not take her to see her people, and of anything right now, T’sala longed for the warmth of something familiar. She looked down to where her strengthened hand had made a dent in the side of thunder.

  “Pay it no mind now, he’s taken worse tumbles, and it’ll buff right out.” The Rumsey’s confidence said it was true, but her eyes betrayed it. “Look, I don’t mean to be pourin’ salt on a wound, but that gate’s coming up quick, and you need to get yourself stowed. If you can, Darlin’, do something about the glow.”

  T’sala realized she had lit the cab up and tried to remember, with all the emotions running through her, what she used to do to calm the glow. It was something new she had learned, something the woman had taught her… As she envisioned the man, Alec’s arm around her, T’sala’s mind fell silent like the cold nights she spent watching his sleeping body in the cave. In that coldness, T’sala felt nothing. She had stayed with him during that time, and all it took for him was a bucket of purple vials, and he pushed her away. Her glow diminished so much that her skin fell to a soft purple grey. T’sala pulled on the chain that hid the compartment and crawled in. She stayed silent and did not let her mind wander from fury at her… no, the offworlder. Normally, T’sala felt the heat of the fight; never would she flee in those moments, but as she sat there frozen with the empty space the man Alec filled before she found she could do neither.

  From where she sat in the smuggling bay, T’sala felt Thunder roll a little faster than they had come towards the gate. If the man, Alec, had died quickly, the dense security feature would stop Thunder, and probably even QUIP in his tracks. She waited tensely as the vehicle slowed and the Rumsey’s voice met her ears.

  “No doubt… You’re right about that… Yeah, kinda in a hurry… Logged a few more hours with the general, and he won’t be happy if I’m late, Baron or no…. You too…” After the Rumsey finished the calm conversation, the vehicle pulled ahead and quickly resumed the speed they had been travelling.

  “Looks like your man’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain, Darlin’, he got us outta there. We ain’t waitin’ about for a lockdown though. Old Haddencourt’s down the way, not more than fifteen.” The Rumsey finished.

  T’sala felt the vehicle gain momentum, and Thunder roared fully. She finally understood where the vehicle got its name from. It may not have the intellect of QUIP, but thunder had the hearty roar of Tusong in battle. She patted the vehicle from within her place in the smuggling bay. “Thank you the Thunder, may your roar grow much stronger and louder…” She paused and then placed a hand gently on the floor of the vehicle. “Also…. I am sorry for giving you damage.”

  As if in response to her apology, the vehicle roared again, and T’sala felt the speed increase. She settled down, confident she had at the very least calmed this beast's emotions. Now of only she could do the same for herself. The “fifteen” Rumsey spoke of felt like an eternity of moments. T’sala found herself in deep mourning, and with the blackness of having no purple glow, she felt truly alone for the first time in years.

  As a child, she had often daydreamed of a space far from everyone where she could be alone with her thoughts. The way the Baronhood crammed the Teretha into their small camp did not provide her with that small luxury. Now that she had it, she no longer wanted it. The sole Teretha woman turned her focus to her people and how she could greet them. Every option seemed to face the same freeze her heart now felt and she could not find a path forward. She did as she had done so many times for comfort and sang her mother's lullaby, rocking in the pose the children took when they needed comfort.

  After she had sung the song through five times, she felt the vehicle begin to slow from the thundering sound. The Rumsey’s voice broke through the silence, “Listen, Darlin’, things look a little different ahead. Security is up. Nothing to worry about now, but be ready.” The last was said with a cautious tone. “An’ when we get there, the people, well, Darlin’, it ain’t no secret that a purple woman an’ a metal man started a rebellion in another system. That’s why they’re all sequestered here in those conditions you saw on my tape. The river twins, they got their dream singin’ tunes in everyone's ears, and some wish to return to their servitude before. It wasn’t a great life, but better than this….”

  Her voice trailed off as the vehicle came to a halt. “Yep, got papers right here…. Nope, not stopping, but fastest way though to the guard post is through, not around….. You ain’t kiddin!!! I got a backlog the general may skin me for, any minutes I can save…. Yeah… I could make that work….” T’sala heard the rumsey moving around the cabin and then poked her head inside the small smuggling bay. She removed something that looked like a bottle of rich purple liquid. It left a flowery smell as it passed by T’sala. The Rumsey held a finger to her lips to signal silence and passed back through the hatch, sealing it behind her. “Well, ain’t you the lucky one, had a half a bottle I’ve been savin’ for a special occasion…”

  T’sala heard the rumsey start up thunder once more and the sound of another large gate scraping open. Thunder pulled ahead the length of itself and then stopped. T’sala felt the gate closing behind them. Once it was closed, she felt another gate in front of them sliding past. This gate was double locked like the one that kept the Teretha in the camp on her home world.

  “Anyway’s what I was sayin’ is river twins, the dream singer’s here, may take some convincin’. The scientist, though She’s the practical one, and she’s lookin’ forward to gettin’ some answers from you. We’ll be there soon enough, just gotta head down the hill so we are outta view and we’ll take a right.”

  The vehicle did just as the rumsey said until T’sala felt it come to a rest, and the engine ceased to run. The Rumsey came and opened up the hatch. T’sala could hear the whispering of a large group outside, combined with the persistent heavy breathing of desperation. T’sala could smell sickness and still water that was causing it. She climbed out past the rumsey into the cab to see a collection of thirty of her people alongside just as many youth and children waiting for the rotted goods the Rumsey had gathered for them. Standing in the forefront were a set of twins, one with short-cropped hair, dressed as the warrior men of the tribe dress. Beside him, one was a dressed female with long sweeping robes, her form indicated a soft femininity that the other lacked. They looked identical in every other way; these must be the river twins.

  T’sala was not practiced at patience, and she did not wait for the Rumsey, who was muttering something about “formal introductions” as she passed by. As she exited the cab, the crowd's eyes turned in unison to take her in. Even without her glow, the grey purple was enough of an indicator of who she was. The largest portion of the gathered group took on an expression of suspicion and disdain that matched the twins in the front. The few that did not hold that expression instead held one of almost scientific fascination. The one leading up this group was tall, much taller than any Teretha T’sala had seen before. Her features left no other option than being born of T’sala’s heritage, but her clothes were those of a Baronhood scientific officer. They were formal and clean, yet militaristic. She had a motherly look about her, and it seemed as though even the ones loyal to the river twins waited for her to speak.

  T’sala cursed her impatience in her head. The Rumsey had the name of the last woman, and she had not given her name yet. In the moment of panic, T’sala’s mind found anchor in her warrior's tactics. In battle, one would take on the toughest foe, then clean the rest of the cowards. The river twins were clearly hostile and, therefore, her toughest foe. And… she knew their name. She was so excited to speak in her native language with ease, instead of having to think and speak as the offworlder did. Then another panic arose. She felt as she climbed down the ladder that she could not remember how her language sounded. It had been so little time with her people before that battle, and she had just gotten back into the rhythm of it. She begged the universe to save her from embarrassment.

  “Twins of the river and peoples of the land of frozen rivers. My name is…”

  “Cursed.” The twins spoke in unison without looking at each other. T’sala felt unease replace panic. She reached for her Aamaranth blood just in case.

  “I have been told…”

  “Told tales of our suffering while we do the suffering for the tales.” The twins again interjected.

  T’sala did not like where this was going. She was used to winning but knew her physical prowess would do nothing here. She was still so angry at the man, Alec and her tongue was loosed with the emotion. As T’sala spoke, her glow began to rise, and the people leaned back from her as if it might scorch them. “We suffer as you suffer. Would we rise up against comfort, or bite a caring hand? Our children disappear to the barons…”

  “And ours disappear from hunger!” This was the voice of a woman standing near the twins. T’sala could see from the lines running down dirt-smudged cheeks that the woman had spent days weeping.

  “So this is what I was sayin’ about proper introductions.” This was the Rumsey who had slid down the ladder and was standing at the waist height of T’sala and the Twins, creating a stubby barrier. “An’ you two… same as last time, if you want to oversee how it goes out. And the supplies you asked for.” The Rumsey handed them a package wrapped in cloth and then took another from under her arm. It was the medical supplies T’sala had seen carefully stashed in the smuggling bay. “Now on to the one who invited you and, WHO VOUCHED FOR YOUR SAFETY,” It was said loudly to the crowd, not to T’sala. “Well, T’sala Darlin’, she’s right over here.”

  The Rumsey pushed ahead, and despite her small size, the crowd began to part in front of her. The twins stood in a face-off towards T’sala as she passed them, but she focused her attention ahead. As soon as she passed, she heard them order the crowd in their unison voice to unload the meagre food items in the Rumsey’s Thunder.

  They walked up to the tall woman, and T’sala could see she held the beauty of royal bloodlines and very old ones. “Well, proper introductions and all, T’sala, this is…”

  “Beahra.” The woman stepped by the rumsey, who only came up to her hip and stretched out an arm to greet T’sala in the way of her people. “The doctor who passed through has described your… affliction… to us in as much detail as he could. To see you standing here. I have so many questions.” She took in a breath as she prepared to ask when blaring alarms unlike any T’sala had ever heard before rang out. T’sala could feel rumbling in the ground and heard thunder in the sky. She looked around for one of the dust storms that could rend flesh from bone that were on her home world, but saw nothing. The look on the Rumsey’s face was sheer terror, the Teretha were running about gathering children and ducking into corners and makeshift hovels, hiding from the sounds. The woman Beahra grabbed T’sala’s hand in hers and then picked the rumsey up like a mother holding a child on her hip. She ran smoothly and gracefully at a speed T’sala had to tap into her Aamaranth blood to match. They headed towards an old, rusted metal door that was surrounded by an octagonal frame. It had a Baronhood logo on it, but other Teretha dressed as science staff were waving her in.

  As T’sala took a moment to glance behind her, she took in the source of the sound. From above, giant flying vehicles were speeding towards them with lights as bright as day, piercing every shadow. On the road, transport vehicles rumbled ahead, each holding a company of soldiers armed and armoured. This T’sala knew, this was a fight, and she longed to lose herself in it. She filled herself with Aamaranth, tensed and then…

  Boom! The door closed in front of her, barring her from the sounds and sight of the forthcoming battle. In the isolated silence, T’sala began to panic again. She looked around to see a dimly lit room with a dozen Teretha working on different tasks. At the far end of the room was a small shape that looked familiar to T’sala. It wasn’t big enough to drive a vehicle through, but there was no doubt in T’sala’s mind. This was one of the gates that connected worlds; with this, she could go home.