"Understood," Tatehan said. "Lead the way."

He wasn't sure of what was happening, but he decided to go with the guard. It wasn't like he had a choice. It would be extremely dumb to say no.

Moreover the Commander had told him that they would speak tomorrow which was today. He had been expecting this but not in this way. He hadn't expected that she would

be seeing him alone.

The guard nodded and turned, and Tatehan followed him out into the corridor.

They walked through the compound in silence, the morning air crisp and cool.

They passed the training grounds and Tatehan could see warriors of the clan, training, preparing for what ever they would be facing today. Some engaged in hand combat, others in shooting while the minority engaged in sword combat.

They held the tech swords he had seen when he first passed this place. Looking at them again now, they fascinated him. What were they capable of doing since the edges were not sharp. Perhaps when it met the enemy, the flat seemingly harmless edges caused some explosive reaction? He didn't know.

Some warriors greeted him with smiles:

"Good morning Mauler Slayer!"

Tatehan waved with a small smile at them. He didn't want to be seen as too friendly, neither did he want to be seen as too tough. He just wanted to be in the middle, having little of both.

He couldn't help but grin slightly at that fact that he killed their number one fighter, someone who led them to war and now they were smiling and greeting him?

Crazy stuff!

Passing the training grounds, his eyes went to the gate where the guards positioned, doing their duties of interrogating any body that seeked entrance into the building just like they had done to him before.

They too (some actually) beamed a smile and greeted him.

"Good morning Mauler Slayer!"

Tatehan waved beaming a slight smile and trying to be in character.

When they eventually reached the main hall, the guard gestured for Tatehan to enter, then departed without another word.

Tatehan pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The hall was empty except for the commander, who sat at the same spot she'd occupied during dinner the night before. But this time, the long table was bare except for a small section directly in front of her, where a modest breakfast had been laid out.

Two settings.

"Sit," the commander said, gesturing to the seat across from her.

Tatehan walked over and sat down, suddenly feeling a bit tense since he didn't exactly know why he was called here alone with the commander. Not a single guard protecting her.

On the table before him was a simple but appealing breakfast: a steaming cup of what looked like coffee (or at least something very similar), a few slices of toasted bread, a small dish of butter, and some kind of preserve that resembled jam.

It was a sumptuous meal by Martian standards, Tatehan realized. Simple, but carefully prepared.

"Eat," the commander said, picking up her own cup of coffee. "We have things to discuss, but there's no need to do it on an empty stomach."

Tatehan nodded and reached for the coffee first. He took a sip and was pleasantly surprised—it was bitter and strong, but with a subtle, almost earthy sweetness underneath. It was good.

He took a slice of bread, spread some butter on it, and took a bite. Fresh... warm... satisfying.

They ate in silence for a few moments, the commander seemingly content to let him settle in before beginning whatever conversation she had planned.

Finally, she set down her cup and looked at him directly, her stern face as unreadable as ever.

"You killed Mub," she said bluntly.

Tatehan was stunned by the words. He even wanted to say something...

"In a fair duel, following our laws. I hold no grudge against you for that."

Tatehan sighed inwardly with relief, saying nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"But his death creates a problem," she continued. "Mub wasn't just our champion or number one fighter. He was our battlefield commander. When our warriors went out to fight the Obscuron's forces, Mub led them. His tactical mind and his ability made him irreplaceable in that role."

She paused, her eyes studying him carefully.

"And now he's gone. Which means when the Obscuron's forces inevitably push further north toward our territory, and they will, we'll be facing them without our strongest leader."

Tatehan felt a knot form in his stomach. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"I'm not asking you to replace him," the commander said, as if reading his thoughts. "You're not one of us, and you have your own affairs to attend to. But..."

She leaned forward slightly, her massive frame making the movement seem almost intimidating despite the hovering chair.

"I am asking that you consider helping us. Occasionally. When the situation is dire. You've proven you're strong, stronger than even Mub, apparently. And you have an ability that could turn the tide of battles."

Tatehan took another sip of his coffee, buying himself a moment to think.

"I'm not a soldier," he said carefully. "I don't know military tactics or how to command troops."

"I'm not asking you to command," the commander replied. "I'm asking you to fight. When we need you. When the Obscuron's forces push too hard and we're on the verge of being overwhelmed. That's when I'd call on you."

She sat back, her expression softening just slightly.

"In exchange, you'd have the full protection and resources of the Red Crest Clan. A place to stay if you need it. Food. Medical care. Information. And allies."

Tatehan considered this carefully.

He didn't want to get dragged into a war—he had his own problems to deal with, namely repairing the spaceship and figuring out how to get off this planet eventually. Not to leave permanently, but at least to explore beyond Mars.

But at the same time, he needed allies. He needed resources. And the Obscuron was apparently expanding toward the north, which meant toward the wastelands where his spaceship was hidden.

If the Obscuron's forces spread too far, they might discover the ship. That couldn't happen.

But if he agreed to team up with the Red Crest Clan occasionally, he would be able to get cores and essential spare parts to repair the spaceship—using their warriors' vehicles and resources.

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