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Kat’s foot scraped across tree bark, missing its mark and sending her tumbling to the side off of the massive branch.  For a fraction of a second, her heart leapt into her throat before she channeled mana into Flight.

A second later, hair tousled and face red with embarrassment, she floated back up to the branch and touched down gently.  Jaalin glanced back at her, muzzle pursed and shook her head.

Dorrik’s hand gently touched Kat’s shoulder, and she looked up at the concerned lokkel.

“Are you alright Miss Kat?” He asked quietly.  “I do not like to pry but you do not seem to be as sharp as usual tonight.  If there is something going on at home we can talk.  Chrome Cowboys has taught me much, and one of the chief lessons is that humans need to periodically talk about their feelings.  Usually with a moving musical score playing in the background.  We do not have access to an orchestra here, but I would be happy to listen to you speak about your emotions Miss Kat.”

She reached up, running her fingers through her hair as she thought of what exactly to tell Dorrik.  Finally, she just shrugged, giving up on trying to pare the story down.

“A friend of mine is in trouble.  The stallesp remnants on my world have infiltrated the corporation I am a part of and he’s been kidnapped.  Right now I don’t know where he is, whether he’s safe, whether the forces I’m contending with actually support the stallesp remnants or if they’re using them to get to me.  A million questions are running through my head, but there’s nothing I can do about them.  My intelligence teams are out pounding the streets right now trying to find me answers, but in the meantime I’m stuck in the belly of a fortified facility, helpless and pacing back and forth restlessly.”

“About that,” Dorrik replied, their voice thoughtful.  “I do not understand why your people tolerate the stallesp remnants.  I am sure that your corporations have the full picture, but even from what is publicly available, it is clear that they intend to take over your planet and liquidate your current leaders.  Allying yourself with them seems about as wise as inviting a gozzlam into your bed.”

Kat chuckled.  It was a bit easy to get buried in the political machinations that made up being a shareholder and forget the outside perspective.  Objectively, most of what went on at her level was insane.

It was simpler on the streets.  Katherine Debs the samurai simply would have killed another samurai that tried to do what Blake Daniels had done to her friends.  There wouldn’t have been much of a need to think about ramifications or alliances.  Plenty of chromed up mercenaries had lost their lives in dive bars over less.

For Katherine Debs the shareholder, the story was much different.  The alliance between Jasper, Belle and her was a minor and tenuous thing.  Some of the interventionists would aid them from time to time, but that wasn’t a relationship that she could rely on.  The three of them needed proper allies and all of them knew it.

So here she was, feeling twinges of guilt every time she looked at Emma for even thinking about entering into a cooperative relationship with the man that had tried to kill her, but at the same time, it was the only real choice.  Throwing caution to the wind and destroying Daniels would only make the man more dangerous.  A cornered rat would still attack a dog, and there wasn’t any guarantee that Daniels wouldn’t manage to hurt Jasper or Belle on his way down.

She shook her head, dismissing excess thoughts about the waking world as she put together her response for Dorrik.

“I think the problem is that every human alive tends to think that they’re cleverer than the poor schmuck next to them.  The other shareholders understand that the stallesp are a threat, but they also understand that it will take time and resources to completely defeat them.  In the meantime, temporary cooperation can yield short-term benefits.  Some of the more reckless leaders think that they can continue to use the stallesp right up until the end, damaging their foes as well as forcing their enemies to clean up the mess that they have created.”

Dorrik snorted.  “That is beyond foolish.”

“Many people are fools,” Kaleek cut in from further up the branch.  “The lokkel had been in space for centuries before the first human thought to pile sticks and rocks together and call it a village so it may not be as large of a concern for your people, but the desoph can’t entirely say the same.  The pods no longer war with each other, but there are some records of rivals that share a border refusing to clean up ecological disasters, trying to force the other side to spend their resources instead.  Most often, the result is that both pods’ fisheries become depleted all while they bristle their fur and show their fangs to each other.”

“Exactly,” Kat replied.  “For so many humans, the important question isn’t necessarily ‘how do I win?’  They are more focused on ‘how do I ensure that it is my rival who loses the most.’  They are more than willing to accept losses so long as they come out further ahead than their rivals.”

“Your people will never cease to fascinate me Miss Kat,” Dorrik said with an awed shake of their head.  “I cannot begin to understand how humanity has survived this long without blotting out your sky in nuclear fire.  It is rare that the consensus runs into a race like yours because they rarely survive long enough for us to make contact.  I cannot tell you how many times long range scanners will pick up radio and electromagnetic activity only to find a smoking ruin of a planet by the time our ships arrive.  Humanity is a fascinating case study.  I cannot believe how lucky we were to find such a volatile race as yours before you managed to collectively commit suicide.”

“I… don’t know if that’s a compliment, but thanks?” Kat said tentatively.  “Things would obviously be better if humans were more open to cooperation, but it’s hard to trust when betrayal is so common.  The assumption is always that the worst is just around the corner and everyone acts accordingly.”

“Tell us about your friend,” Toorvu interjected without looking back.  “Honor kidnappings are not unheard of among the lokkel, but this sounds like something significantly more primitive and barbaric.”

Kat flushed as she stumbled, missing a step as she realized that their entire party had been listening in.  Jaalin, Sketat and Toorvu usually didn’t speak up much, content to keep to themselves unless the group was planning for a battle.  Other than Jaalin’s occasional snide remarks as she questioned Dorrik, it was easy for the other three lokkel to fade into the background.

“Jasper’s a good guy, but-”  The image of a golden retriever galloping through a field, chasing a tennis ball that its owner had only pretended to throw flashed through her head.  “He thinks that the world is as well- meaning as him.  As best I can tell, he made an agreement to meet with some dangerous folks.  His heart was in the right place.  He wanted to de-escalate a dangerous situation that was spiraling out of control, but he went in blind and without any leverage.”

“So your friend is stupid and walked into a trap,” Kaleek remarked blithely.  “I have a cousin like that.  Good girl, but I’m pretty sure she makes my aunt shed every time she leaves the pod.”

“Have you considered putting a micro transmitter in him,” Toorvus offered.  “It is common among lokkel to put a transmitter in sand flitters when they are spayed so that their owners don’t lose them.  It can be done with a minimum of pain and is very useful for tracking the flitter if it escapes.”

She practically choked, evolving into a stream of coughs as she slapped her chest.

“That is a very good idea Miss Kat,” Dorrik said helpfully.  “If I recall correctly, this Jasper has gotten himself kidnapped once before.  It seems the boy has gotten himself into the habit of it, much like Maryanne Redeye is often bound and left on the steam maglev tracks in Chrome Cowboys.  I have been keeping a chart, and that specific plot point has happened at least twice a season, and in season seven it happened at least seven times.  I often wonder why her companions didn’t keep a closer watch on her.”

“Season seven was when the show changed writers, wasn’t it?”  Kat mused.  “I seem to recall the entire plotline about the cybercow collective gaining sapience and attacking Gibson’s Gulch just disappeared out of nowhere.  I never did figure out what happened with that.”

She shook her head, clearing the extraneous questions about Chrome Cowboys that kept bubbling to the surface.  Just as she was beginning to wrack her brain for a response, Kaleek spoke up.

“Look, there’s no worrying about it now, is there?  Your body needs to sleep and there isn’t anything you can do for him while you’re under.  It sounds like you took the steps you need to take, but right now you’re here and we’re about to fight a floor guardian.  These battles are never easy, and if you go in distracted we’re all going to die.  It’ll be hard to help your friend without any powers from the dreamscape.”

“Agreed,” Jaalin said from the front of their column.  “The Tyrant Vine isn’t something to be taken lightly.  With spore filters it should be easier than any of the nearby floor guardians, but that doesn’t mean it will be easy.  This isn’t the first three levels. The dreamscape doesn’t give gifts anymore.  If you wish to continue your ascent, the three of you will need to earn it.”

“Got it,” Kad replied, nodding firmly.  “There will be time to worry about personal concerns later, but for now, get my head in the game so that we can kill stuff.”

“That’s the point of the tower,” Kaleek said cheerfully.  “I spend my days crunching through models and theorems worrying about when the next grant is coming in and how the latest product lines are doing, but when I’m here, I don’t have to worry about any of that nonsense.  It’s as simple as ‘find a monster, stab a monster.’  I can let Dorrik and you work about all the pointless details.”

“Enough chatter,” Jaalin cut the two of them off.  “We’re here.  Remember, Toorvu, Stekat and I will be ready to step in if things spiral out of control, but the three of you should try and handle the guardian without our assistance.  The awards will be much better if you can manage it on your own.”

She stepped to the side, letting Dorrik take the lead.  The lokkel turned to face the five other members of the party.  Behind Dorrik, the cream colored tower that marked the staircase to the next level rose out of the massive forest.  Wrapped around the cream colored stone was a spiraling green cable, leaves and flowers sprouting from its surface.

“Is that-” she began, earning a nod from Dorrik

“Yes, Miss Kat.  The Tyrant Vine is completely wrapped around the stairwell.  It is actually impossible to defeat the floor guardian without convincing it to lower its main body, a large bulb that is currently above the cloud level, to the forest floor.”

Dorrik handed her a wooden mask painted to look like a snarling fang filled mouth.  They handed another one to Kaleek as they continued the lecture.

“The hardest part of fighting the Tyrant Vine is its spores.  These masks will cover your mouth, eyes and nose, preventing you from being exposed through those vectors.  That won’t be enough to completely protect us, we would need a full bodysuit for that.  This floor has a specific plant, Allwass Root that can be pulped and heated to create a sort of organic rubber that is ideal for such a suit, but it would take weeks to gather the resources, find the artisans and wait for them to finish crafting such a suit.  We do not have that time so we will make do.”

They stopped for a second before turning to Kat and nodding slightly in her direction.

“The solution is in Miss Kat’s hands,” Dorrik said, their voice calm but their crest fluttering with unseen agitation.  “Gravity and light have very little impact on spores, and none of her arcane spells will stop their progress, but I think Scald shows promise.  Water on its own will only make the problem worse, speeding the growth of the spores by a noticeable amount, but they are very vulnerable to heat.  If Kat can keep the two of us wreathed in a constant cloud of boiling hot steam, it should be able to render the spores inert before they can take root.”

“But that involves letting Kat cook us,” Kaleek pointed out.  “How bad are the vine’s spores anyway?  It might be something that we can fight through if we are quick enough.”

Jaalin snorted, drawing a quick flick of Dorrik’s head before they replied.

“Initial contact will lead to confused perceptions and enervation.  If the spores are absorbed into the blood, either through contact with the eyes, nose, mouth, or an open wound.”

“Or.”  Dorrik paused for a second.  “Or if the spores touch exposed skin without being destroyed.  They will begin to burrow and grow.  The process takes between fifteen seconds and three minutes depending upon how thick your skin, shell or scales are, but the process is supposed to be excruciating and impossible to stop short of silver tier healing magics.  Once it is complete, your perception will be reduced to a whirling riot of colors and sound while your strength rapidly depletes.  Very few warriors have managed to stay standing for more than two minutes after infection.”

“Right,” Kaleek responded.  “So we let Kat cook us.  Great.  How do we survive being steamed long enough to kill this thing?  Also, an important question.  How do we kill it, poke the bottom parts of the vine until it gets annoyed enough to lower its main body into the fight?”

“Errr.”  Dorrik shuffled their feet, almost embarrassed.  “After a fashion.  We have some oilskins that should get the vine burning if you can apply a spark to them.  Other than that, so long as we keep hacking away at the vine, once it notices that its spores aren’t having any effect on us the main bulb should lower.  Then it will be a more traditional battle with it firing thorns and swinging fronds at us while we try to destroy its main flower.  As for the heat, Jaalin has some talismans of heat resistance.  It won’t have the power to stop an actual heat or fire based attack, but it should have enough ”

Dorrik lapsed into silence, watching Kaleek expectantly.  In the distance, a bird chattered at something unseen as the pause stretched on.  Finally, the big otter shrugged.

“We start the bad guy on fire and stab anything that isn’t burning,” he remarked cheerfully.  “With any luck we kill the monster before we all cook alive.  That sounds like a plan I would come up with.”

“It kinda does,” Kat said apologetically.  “The masks are a pretty nice touch.  They show a decent amount of thought and planning.  The rest of it is kinda… ‘just wreck things.’  That’s classic Kaleek.”

“I thought up the masks,” Jaalin interjected smugly, both sets of her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“We came up with the masks together,” Dorrik corrected.  “You suggested them first, but I was the one that worked out how to layer the cloth padding with anti-fungal ointments so that we could breathe freely without running the risk of being infected.”

Kaleek held up his mask, staring dubiously at it as he turned it over in his hands.

“This is going to smell like a cheap chemical factory the second I put it on, isn’t it?” He asked unhappily.

“No,” Dorrik snapped back, a hint of nerves finally creeping in through their usually detached demeanor.  “Well, probably.  I didn’t research how the creams would impact human and desoph olfactory organs, but at least to lokkel senses it is quite… pungent.”

Kat walked up beside Dorrik, clapping a hand on her shoulder and smiling briefly at him before she slipped the mask over her head and began the arduous task of tying the leather tabs behind her head.

“The plan is just fine Dorrk,” she said, eyes watering as the smell of the smell of the chemicals used to treat the mask’s filters assaulted her eyes and nose.  “Simplicity isn’t a bad thing.  So long as the plan covers all of the major risks, fewer moving parts means fewer ways for the entire thing to blow up in our faces when Kaleek goes rogue.  Right now, the plan has that built into it.  I’d call that an asset rather than something to be ashamed of.”

Dorrik fidgeted with their own mask for a second before looking up and meeting her eyes.  Their crest was standing straight up and every muscle in their body was rock hard, as if they were ready to leap into action at the blink of an eye.

“Thank you Miss Kat,” Dorrik replied, fingers still fiddling with their mask.  “Truly.  I am uncomfortable with proceeding so quickly, but time has been our enemy ever since the Clan announced the schedule for my coming of age.  We are cutting corners, and that is something I prefer to avoid.  I had a very precise plan for how we would advance through this floor and the next, and then suddenly that has all changed.  It is disconcerting but I suppose we must make the best of the circumstances that we have available to us.”

“And thank you,” Kat said back, finishing off tying her mask in place.  “I was pretty distracted by the real world when we started all of this off.  Without you bringing up that entire tangent about Maryanne Redeye constantly getting kidnapped, I don’t know if I would have been able to snap out of my constant worrying and fretting.”

She turned away from Dorrik and began walking toward the staircase.  Someone had carved rungs into the tree’s trunk, creating a ladder that led down to the forest floor just in front of the clearing that surrounded the staircase.  Just as Kat put her foot into the first slot, Dorrik called out behind her.

“But Miss Kat, I think there must be some mistake.  I wasn’t trying to distract you.  I genuinely do wonder why Miss Redeye keeps getting kidnapped.  It has vexed me for weeks!”

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