The shuttle that arrived looked nothing like the shuttles that were resting in the hanger, those were all aerodynamic sleek lines and sensuous curves. The dragon’s shuttle was a thing of hard edges and sharp angles. Rieven immediately thought, I need to have the Void Spectre’s shuttle look like that. Hell, I need my ship to look like that. Could we commandeer one of the dragon’s damaged vessels or claim it as salvage? He sent a quick note on his data pad to Chief Werner to figure out if they had the theoretical capacity to repair one of them well enough for the journey home.

  As the shuttle sat down to rest on the bay floor, he moved his hands behind his back and stood a bit straighter. Others in the bay focused on the craft, and while no weapons were pointed at the shuttle they were at the ready. There was a hiss as a section of the underhull lowered into a ramp, mist dissipating as the atmospheres normalized. Rieven breathed in and a wave of humidity rolled over him. Makes sense, he thought, dragons looked like lizards, many lizards liked hot and wet. I’m not looking forward to traveling to the Paradisical Halls. It is bound to be miserable.

  They heard a thumping sound and through the dissipating mist a shadow and a presence was seen. It slowly resolved into what Rieven would imagine the offspring of a dragon mating with a man would look like. It stood about two and a half metres tall and walked on two legs, its thick tail swinging gently on the floor behind it. Its hands clasped a naked sword, one hand on the hilt and one hand on the blade. It was a basic cross-guard with a blade that tapered gently two thirds up the length to a fine point. The hilt was wrapped in what looked like dragon leather that had weathered to the grey of immersed river rocks. Jutting from between its wings was the hilt of another sword, this one larger than anything Rieven would want to lift without axiom, the blade’s guard was angled slightly towards the hilt forming an inverted chevron floating over his shoulder.

  His scales were of different colours, in some places red, or blue, or green, or purple, or transitioning between them. They were all of a dim hue, nor would they shine much in the sun, perfectly suited to a predator. The bit that surprised him though was that the dragon wore mail. Great matte plates hung from his shoulders, arms, chest and upper legs. That must mean those scales are less damage resistant than they look, thought Rieven, it was safer to just prevent the possibility of damage instead of merely weathering it. Such was life everywhere, he smirked.

  Rieven thought, I wonder if you could call it a dragon if it looked anthropomorphic instead of mythical as the other two had appeared. The dragon reached the bottom of the ramp, turned to face Rieven, and knelt onto both knees with his wings folded closely to his body, the sword he extended towards Reiven with both hands. When he spoke his voice was smooth as a flowing creek, “Commadore Rieven, I am Bharavha son of Heat Death Virabdhara, and I offer myself as surety that the word of my father is binding, and present to you the Sword of Consequence. It is forged of dragonsbane, the only metal which parts our scales as our claws do our prey. Please receive it as a gift freely given to bind this accord.”

  So saying, he bent forward so much he almost kowtowed, and set the sword at Rieven’s feet. When he rose to his knees again, he began to ritualistically remove his armour piece by piece and then arrange it in the pattern of a person in between him and the Sword of Consequence on the floor. Once he was divested of his armour he unstrapped his sword from his back and lay it, still in its sheath, on the floor to the side with the hilt pointed away from his body and out of easy reach. Lastly he unclasped his a piece of hanging cloth at his shoulder and laid it over the whole of his personal affects. It was murky blue with a gold trident piercing down into the top of a white dragon skull.

  Once the task was finished, Bharavha stretched his neck and angled his head down slightly, probably so the weapon of his fire was not aimed at Rieven directly, and he simply looked at him in silence. Everyone else alternated between looking at the dragon and looking at their commandant. Thus cometh the moment, for thus cometh the man, Rieven intoned to himself.

  He stooped down and picked up the Sword of Consequence. It was heavier than it looked, but carried at a comfortable weight for an axiomated body. He shifted so he held it in a reverse-grip in his left hand and set his fist against his waist behind his back, allowing the blade of the sword to emerge from behind his left leg. He hummed and then spoke “Be welcome Bharavha, both surety for and son of Heat Death Virabdhara. It is no small thing you do. Your culture is new to me. Is there aught else required from either of us to complete this ceremony satisfactorily?”

  The dragon shook his head and said “No m’lord, in accepting the Sword of Consequence you have fulfilled all requirements both seen and unseen. For my part, it is customary that the surety remain as I am for the duration of the ritual combat, silent and seen; only to move, shift, speak, or rearm himself at its end, secured in the good faith of his host.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Very well then. Corporal One-hand will see that you are seen while I am away. She and her squad will keep you away from the crew and the crew away from you and your safety shall be maintained in good faith throughout. I will leave the Sword of Consequence in her care, that it might be employed as the sword hanging over your head in my absence. It will not be abused in any way. Is that not correct corporal?”

  “Sir! That is highly correct and proper. Sir!” One-hand said with disappointed enthusiasm.

  Rieven smiled and said with ceremony “Fare thee well Bharavha, I go to meet your father, be at peace.” The dragon blinked, shifted his wings slightly and then stilled as a predator in the water. “Master Ono, please board with me, it is time.” Ono signaled to his squad and they fell in around Rieven as one of their number moved up the ramp ahead of them to scout the shuttle.

  His voice called over comms “Clear! The portable scanner found nothing either, though we’ll be standing the whole way, no one’s ass is fat enough to fit these seats.”

  Rieven saw exactly what he meant when they entered. The shuttle was small by some standards, only thirty metres by fifteen, more or less. There were only two rooms, the cockpit and the ready room in the front. He looked to the sides and saw large seats with holes in the back and room behind them for tails. Curiously they employed a seven-point harness system. Must have something to do with their wings, he thought.

  The cockpit was through an automatic door that opened as he approached. There was one seat facing alien controls. “How are we to fly this?” Rieven asked.

  “I shall fly it for you” said a dragon’s voice from the control consol. “The remote link is still active, rendering the manual controls inert.

  “Very well. Take off at your convenience, we are ready.”

  There was a hiss as the ramp closed and the atmosphere reestablished the humid norm. Rieven shivered uncomfortably. Not only was it almost unbearably humid, but the pressure of the air felt like being fifty feet underwater. They must really like weighted blankets. It was a pleasant surprise to discover the artificial gravity was almost equal to the Operatic Imperial standard.

  The ship glid out of the hanger and made its way to the dragon’s fleet. Ono leaned over to Rieven and asked “Why does the son look different than the father? Was he born sideways of marriage?” Ono said smirking.

  Rieven smiled. “No clue. Though I’d like to ask.”

  The voice from the console intruded on their conversation “Actually that is the form all dragons take at his development cycle. We start as eggs, hatch as fish, slowly grow legs, then walk upright, grow wings, then begin to hunch over as the wings get too large for upright posture. We continue growing until we reach maturity. Heat Death Bharavha is not yet full-grown and he is greatest in the fleet.” Rieven raised his eyebrow at Ono. So they were observed. Probably audio and video at least. Oh well, at least they had an answer to their previous question.

  “Well, Master Ono, please get me into a suit of that armour. I’m not going into ritual combat naked.”

  “Why not sir? It would make the betting even better. Imagine the odds.”

  Rieven snorted. “No thanks. In I go.” From the cases two of the marines had carried onboard the armour was assembled onto his body piece by piece. When the helmet was clasped on, it retracted into the gorget, allowing his head the freedom he preferred. “Ahh, much better Master Ono.”

  “Sir, one of these days my hand will slip if you keep calling me master instead of Master Sergeant. I don’t think there’s a judge who would care.”

  Rieven just laughed. Ono looked at him dramatically and then looked at the control console, and then deliberately tapped the gorget of his armour. The helmet enclosed his head immediately. Rieven did the same, and he could hear Ono’s voice in the helm, clipped syllables and all. “Well sir, I know how much it means to you so I had the boys bring your lovely.” He reached his hand behind him and private Ignore-it handed him a kukri, which he presented to Rieven.

  Rieven happily secured the blade to his back, with the hilt near his waist. “Thank you Ono.” He switched from the squad channel to a private one. “I don’t know how I feel about this. As it is, that son’s size is a menace. I expect greenie will be huge.”

  Master Sergeant Ono grunted. “At least you don’t have to kill him, just win the fight. Your axiom laced kukri should be able to put a dent into that hide of his, and with your body running on the stuff you shouldn’t be too much slower than him. Or not.” Rieven could hear his smile through the comm link.

  “Thank you, that was very comforting.” Before he could say more he noticed that they were coming up to the ship. It was massive. In a way that even the emperor would value. Just as the shuttle, this behemoth was shaped of very angry lines and aggressive points. It looked mean-spirited and irate with life. What do I have to do to get a ship like that? wondered Rieven.

  As they were approaching the bay, Ono broke over the squad chatter “Axiom only from here till the fight. I don’t want to be cut out by unexpected atmosphere bursts or something else stupid.” Affirmations followed from the squad.

  When they passed the shuttle bay doors, Rieven realised that it wasn’t a shuttle bay, it was a city. The entire thing was one large room and some parts were covered in hull while other parts were showing a sunny sky with a few happy clouds. Real clouds, not projected ones. Stone and metal buildings rose thirty floors from the foundation. There was even a lake that was shaped oddly enough to look like it was winding through the city, it had no shoreline and abutted the stone foundations the buildings and streets were built on top of. There were boats and pedestrians and conveyances bringing dragons to and from all corners of the ship. There were sky-lanes for those who wished to fly under their own power and ones for those who had a shuttle. It must have been two kilometers high and ten in length. In the center under the sky was a statue of Heat Death Virabdhara that stood almost to the ceiling, it’s upper wings lost in a cloud.

  It was cast of a metal which had aged into grey that hinted at blues and greens and even transitioned reds. It was solemn and awe-inspiring. It was to this point that their shuttle headed. As they lowered, Rieven could see trees and greenery all around the city. It was beautiful and made him feel smaller than he was. Not physically, but rather in accomplishments and standing. He felt as he had the first time he saw the void from a starship. It took his breath and quieted his mind and settled an impression gently into his soul that would never leave.

  This was more than a ship.

  This was a living vessel.

  And he loved it!