Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me. I make no money from writing about them.
Author's Note: Written for the Crais Ficathon. The title means 'herald' in Ancient Greek, or at least I sincerely hope it does *g*.
Continuity: An indeterminate number of years before the Premiere
Crais is surprised to realised that it's been almost two cycles since he set foot on the surface of any planet. People of his rank are far too important to risk their lives in battle, and they are certainly not sent on supply runs. Peacekeepers rarely see any other reason to leave the familiarity of open space.
He could not precisely say that he has missed solid ground – he has fought too many wars on planets like this one to associate them with his home any longer. This outlying Hynerian colony isn't much like it anyway - the smell that always seems to hang around their settlements is omnipresent, and the building and streets are comically tiny. Still, there is something to be said for looking up and seeing sky. He is glad that he came to claim victory in person, to show the local populace who has the true power here. The guard of honour keep their distance as they move at a leisurely pace from the space port to the city centre, and he and Teeg almost have the road to themselves.
She looks up into the sky, and points. "What is that?" she asks curiously.
"It's a rainbow." The word he uses is not part of the standard language of the Peacekeepers, which has no use for such terms. "They're not uncommon on planets like this one."
The colours hanging suspended in the air, at least, are distantly familiar. Hynerians like to settle on warm planets where it rains a great deal, so they must be a common sight here. Peacekeepers don't place much importance on weather that has no impact on ground troops, but Crais dimly remembers his mother explaining what caused such things.
"On the world where I was born, they were meant to be a good omen." He realises as he says it that there is no word for that in her language, either. "Good luck," he amends. All soldiers understand that, at least.
She looks at him quizzically. "Do you believe that?"
He should reply that it's simply an unimportant phenomenon caused by the refraction of light through the water molecules in the air. Instead, he shrugs. They have served together for long enough for her to know that he retains some attachment to his heritage, and it isn't as if he's ashamed of it.
"It is a good day – we successfully prevented the colony from breaking away from the control of our preferred Emperor, and the head of the rebel leader will soon adorn my quarters." He pauses for a moment, but she will find out soon enough. "I have asked to have my brother transferred to my command."
It cannot mean anything to her. She has never had a family, and it is unlikely that Teeg will understand why he would use the leverage this campaign has given him in order to achieve such a thing.
"They say Lieutenant Crais is an excellent pilot," she says, nodding, "and Pleisar Regiment requires a new commanding officer."
He nods back – at least she does not seem to find his actions objectionable. "With luck, the application will be approved within a few days."
She glances at the sky again, with a half smile. "It didn't bring any luck to the Hynerians," she says with a half smile. "Perhaps it is a better sign for us."
Looking at the colours fading away as the mist dissipates, he can believe it.
The End