Two Beta Volardi walked in front of us with hands near their chest. Gerlari our Royal Head Guard walked behind us. I didn’t see him but I remembered his body. Thicker than Matros and with no hair. Like all natural Volardi, he had flecks along his chest. He was big for an Alpha or rather Soturi, with tattoos on his arms and a burn along the right side of his face. Matros said he got it during a shared battle along with Matros’ First Father. They had the technology to remove his scar, but he willingly kept it.

Maybe something to remember?

He stepped to the side, and he kept his arms near his chest as well. I recognize the look from Earth and bar bouncers. The perfect position to hit someone with your fist or aim a gun. The Volardi had guns but they fired small red globes. They could grip like handcuffs or strike with the force of a small cannonball.

We stepped into a clear, blue-tinted globe. I suspected it was the water that changed the color. Overhead were thousands of ‘fish’, coral, plants and creatures. All with no clear counterpart back on Earth. Although, some had a mix-match feel to them. Crablike things with a large membrane bubble attached floated by. Things that look like seaweed but moved like an octopus. Square soft cubes that flexed as they darted at high speeds. The implant would’ve told me the names, but I liked the sense of wonder. This would be my home and one day this would be common. For now, I wanted to play tourist.

I suspected this waiting room was like the ‘mud rooms’ back home. A place where you could take off the muddy boots before you go into the living room. We were dry, but the three Ryba that came in dripped onto the floor. Two tall, grey-green females and a smaller, green pink male. Although there were plenty of Ryba in the background and in the other bigger dome beyond. Ryba took two wives for genetic diversity. Some Volardi claimed it was a slap in the face to their people. Volardi were without mates and they had two each.

The tiny male stepped forward as if he was the biggest man in the room.

Royalty will do that.

His voice was flat. “Matros, welcome to my kingdom.”

Matros breathed in deep. “Fuath, thank you for seeing us.”

My nose wrinkled at the sour scent of frustration from Matros. Volardi Alphas generally don’t ask for permission. They expected their wants fulfilled. Still, they were a practical people and knew how the universe worked. This wasn’t the first empire. Several empires that were to rule forever, didn’t. The subjugation of the ‘lower’ classes led to revolts in previous ones. Attempts to learn from that lead to ‘too lenient’ empires and ineffective rulers.