urlon fell easily back into the routine at the Dojo and resumed his
studies.  Redjos fell back from the front of his mind, but his
presences was always there in the back, a niggling concern.

Sensei spoke to Red and it was obvious that she now knew that the dojo
taught more than just swordplay.  Over drinks one night, she confessed
to Turlon that she felt dissappointed that she did not possess the
abilities that he did, nor the quirky immunity of Sensei.  "I'm just
a normal person, and sometimes in this crowd, that doesn't seem enough."

Turlon felt the disconnect that Red expressed, as he had suffered from that
for years.  "Being normal has its advantages. Besides, your normalness is
pretty exceptional."

Turlon's studies progressed as well, his control over his Meowr'Hiss
growing as did his physical skills.


Four of five months had passed when Turlon was summoned by Sensei. After
the formal greetings had been made, Sensei came to the point.
"Turlon, what do you know of the planet Taron?"

Turlon answered, "Not much.  It's not in the TUFP, is it?"

"No, it is currently under interdiction by a joint TUFP and Mek'Purr
scientific congress.  It is a primitive planet and neither government
wishes to interfere with its development, but both wish to study
the culture without interfering."  Sensei produced a datachip.
"This contains much information about the planet.  I would like you
to review it and tell me what conclusions you draw."

Turlon accepted the chip and over the next few days studies the information
it contained.  The planet was remarkably Terran; 27 hour day, 74% hydrospheric
rating, 1.0 G gravity, and an atmosphere which was breathable with slightly
more O2 than a strictly Terran mix.

The scientific team estimated that approximately 1 billion Taronians
inhabited the planet, scattered across the surface of the planet with
few concentrations of any great size.  The largest population density
was in a city-state that concentrated approximately 600,000 people into
a walled city and the surrounding hinterland.

The Taronians themselves were humanoid, and very similar in structure
and overall appearance to humans. They have two sexes, and sex-roles
vary widely depending on the locale.  Gestation takes place outside
the body for most of the six-month time period, in a tough membrane
that functions much like an eggshell.  Fertilization takes place
outside the body, while the potential child is still attached to the
mother.  Upon fertilization, the "egg" undergoes a nearly immediate
color change, before being replaced inside the mother for another
month, after which time it is "laid."

The technological level was roughly a three on the accepted scale, although
they were advanced with respect to personal armour but had not yet
discovered gunpowder.

The governmental structure was primarily fuedal, although some areas
had developed some form of partly representative government resembling
in some ways the Italian city states of the Renaissance.

Turlon returned to Sensei with his analysis and questions.  "First off," he
began, "what is the attraction to Taron?"  Turlon admitted his shortcomings
when it came to diplomacy and scientific treasures, falling back upon his
military training.  He wasn't sure what the planet had to offer to the
alliance of interested planets, unless there were untapped resources worth
acquiring.

He went on to express his interests in their governmental structure and the
existence of a walled city-state.  "Where there are walls, there are
threats," Turlon observed, "which tells me that there are conflicting
thought patterns on the planet."

"Indeed, there are many wars and smaller conflicts," answered Sensei.
"What of the people themselves?"

Turlon made a quick comment about "the egg thing" which showed a tremendous
lack of acceptance of those different from himself and he found himself
asking Sensei for forgiveness at his thoughtless comment.  "Their social
structure is interesting if the gender roles vary widely, considering the
reproductive system.  I'd imagine the young are quite vulnerable while
awaiting fertilization which apparently doesn't affect the females'
strength in some locales."

"Indeed, but it frees the females to participate fully in society
since they are not limited for many months by pregnancy," said Kral'Hiss'Growl.
"Did you not notice as well their striking resemblance to your own race?"

Turlon made the connection and silently admitted his own bias, "Yes, I
suppose they do."  Despite all the races, Turlon naturally assumed his form
to be 'normal' and not worthy of note -- this, he knew, was not the
perspective Sensei had.

Growl nodded, "Turlon, there is, as a you know, a thriving trade in
ForeRunner artifacts.  Even non-functioning equipment is worth a
great deal of money to collectors.  Still functional equipment is
of immeasurable value; many items we take for granted are derived
from ForeRunner technology, from glowbulbs to lightswords.

"There are some pieces of ForeRunner equipment which are of immense
value to those awakened to Meowr'Hiss, such as the device which
Redjos found.  There are other devices, too, without which
the Purr'Meowr'Hiss'Ka would find it difficult to operate.

"As a result, the Purr'Meowr'Hiss'Ka take a great interest in ForeRunner
sites and their excavation and exploration.  There have been representatives
of the Purr'Meowr'Hiss'Ka on every major ForeRunner dig in the last
hundred years.

"Now, however, we have run into a difficulty.  We believe that there is
a ForeRunner site on Taron.  We also believe that black marketeers have
already begun the process of attempting to exploit it.  Officially,
the site is off-limits due to the interdiction.  However, that is
not sufficient for our purposes.  We must get an agent to the site.

"Turlon, with minor surgery you could pass as a native of the planet and
could be that agent."

The human thought about everything Sensei had just said for a moment, and
answered "Just so I don't have to fertilize an egg."

Then he addressed his concerns, "Will there be a contact planetside, or am
I going in blind?"  Turlon was no archeologist and knew that he'd be pegged
as an outsider were he to try to pass himself off as one.  He had undergone
some basic subversive training in the Commandos but nothing long term, of
course in those cases he had a blaster and spoke the language -- two
luxuries he figured he wouldn't have on this mission.

"No one has contacts planetside, the interdiction has seen to that.
In fact, we still don't have a firm idea of how to get you down to the
planet.  Once on the planet, you'll be on your own.  We do have
enough information to be teach you some of the Taronian dialects
and you can use as a cover the guise of a mercenary soldier or a trader."

Turlon thought to himself, 'a warrior again,' and answered "Mercs tend to
be pretty universal."  He accepted the task and asked Sensei if there was
any material compiled on Taronian history, culture, and current events he
could study.  "If I'm going in," he remarked, "I need to know the players
and who is worth fighting for."

"There is some data available," he said producing a chip case.  "If you
wish to accept this mission, then we will also need to arrange for
both surgery and the deep learning sessions needed for the language.
If you have any ideas about how you can be inflitrated to the planet
and then extracted, we would be delighted to hear them as well."

Turlon accepted the case and and inquired as to when the surgery and
sessions could be scheduled.  "I've got an idea about insertion, I'll need
to bounce it off Buck," he confided before excusing himself.

Turlon found Buck in the hangar, not a surprise since that was
where Buck spent most of this spare time.

"Buck," he called out, scooting under a wing to find the pilot with his
head buried in mechanical monstrosity.

"Van, what's up," said the pilot.

"I've been thinking," Turlon began and paused for the dependable crack from
Buck, "think you could fly in quiet enough to drop me in a CG Harness
without breaking my neck and getting caught?"

"Fly what, in where, caught by whom?"

"I assume that the right answer on all three equals a 'Yes'," he replied
handing a random wrench to Buck.  "That is all I needed to know at this
point, but I will be in touch."  Turlon walked away leaving his buddy more
confused than ever, and turned on his heel.  "Do you owe me a dinner or is
it the other way around?"

"If you have to ask, you owe me," said the canine with a toothy grin before
he dove back into his machine.

Turlon smiled and yelled back "1900 hours, on time is late and early is
on-time," as he exited the hanger.  Now was time to hit the books and learn
as much as he could about Taron before dinner.

By dinner, Turlon had learned a good deal more about Taron, but hadn't
had any brilliant ideas about the mission.   He headed to the dining
hall and found Buck leaning against a pillar and chatting up on of the
new students, the punchline to the joke was something about "dogs
and cats living together."

Turlon cleared his voice which sent the student away much to the chagrin of
Buck.  "Ready?"

"Sure, let's head on in," said Buck.  After they had gathered their
food and found a quiet spot to sit, Buck demanded, "Spill it.  What's
up?"

Turlon was silent for a long moment.

"Hey, cat got your tongue?" asked Buck, cracking himself up.

Turlon shot him a look and quipped "You're barking up the wrong tree."
Then a smile came across his face before settling in for some serious
discussion.  "What do you know about Taron?"

Buck rolled that one around for a minute or two, "Never heard of
it, a planet right?"

"Yeah," Turlon said between bites.  "I'm needing to go to a party there
without an invitation.  Seems like Daddy TUFP and Momma Mek'Purr want to
keep the girls safe at home."

"Sounds hairy," said Buck in a more-or-less neutral tone.  "If someone
really wanted to go to an interdicted planet it could be very awkward."

Turlon grunted in agreement.  "There are ways, I'm sure, " he glanced up
briefly, "if the pilot is talented enough," and then looked back down into
the sea of porridge before him.

"There are always ways," Buck allowed.  "A lot depends on who or
what is doing the quarantine and who or what is running it.  Sometimes,
the timetable is important, too.  And extraction can be an issue."

"True enough," Turlon concurred.  "Things must be pretty serious, I've read
where any traffic is diverted to the moon where they probably bury you in
red tape and toss a few threats."  Turlon paused as a couple of students
passed by within earshot.  "A couple of corvettes are guarding the piggy
bank," stated matter-of-factly.

With the preliminary dancing over, Turlon and Buck settled
down to discuss specifics.   "No matter what, we're talking about
a slow approach.  We'll have to come out of warp well away from
the star and come in sublight -- otherwise we'll set off any
SADAR buoys they might have in place.  You've got the specs on the system
right?  I wonder," said Buck then tailed off.  Turlon urged him to
continue, but Buck demurred.  "Let me see the data-chips, I've got an idea."

The two returned to Turlon's room and Buck studied the data. He looked
up with a grin.

"Do you have something?" asked Turlon.

"Maybe.  Taron system has a fairly cluttered orbital plane.  Only thre
planets, but some nice asteroids and even better a meteor cloud.  Once
each year, the planet passes through an extensive cloud of space particles
resulting in a heavy meteor shower.  Must be pretty," he mused, "all
that rock burning up on entry into the atmosphere.  Anyway, what we do
is this.

"We warp in far outsystem, then do a TISA burn to get some speed
and go ballistic.  We do a long slow ride into the system doing
our best to look like space junk, until we get into the meteor
cloud.  We burn again and blend in.  Then when the planet enters the cloud,
we drop you as a meteor.  Then you'd have either two weeks or
a full Taronian year to get your job done and get back up into
orbit.  We pick you up and go out the way we came."

"Possible," Turlon said aloud looking over the notes Buck had scribbled on 
a datapad.  "I'm not happy about using synchronized extraction, two weeks
versus a year sits with me as well as that porridge we had for dinner.  But
I've done it before."  Turlon filled Buck in on as much as he felt he could
regarding the secrecy and potential danger.  "We're talking clubs and wheel
worship here," he exaggerated.  "Can you do it?"

"Do what? Sneak you in and live in a doggo ship for a year?  Yeah, I can
do that.  Pick you up on the fly from lopo," Buck used the acronym for
Low Planetary Orbit. "I can do that, too.   Can I build a space
ship out of clubs and wheels, no."

"You disappoint me," said Turlon jokingly.  "But I think I can settle for
your meager skills."

Turlon laid out his preferences, if there were already things falling from
the sky then he may as well just be another thing.  He knew there would be
no planetary detection of his descent and the scientists would probably
write him off as an anomaly of sorts, so getting planetside was just a
matter of Buck zipping in and him surviving the trip down.  Pick-up would
probably be best done if Buck could find a way to land.  No scientist would
buy a meteor coming up from the planet without setting of an alarm of sorts
-- something they didn't need.  Granted, the ship would have to take off,
but that could wait for the best time, Turlon wasn't too thrilled with the
idea of floating around out there until they could link up.

"Sure, however you want it," said Buck.  "What class is this for anyway?"

"Class?" asked Turlon.  "Oh, it is an Independent Study I'm trying to get
extra credit for," he said with a cocked eyebrow hoping to relay the
confidentiality of this entire project.

Buck missed it and ruminated thoughtfully, "Too bad it's not a real gig.
Could be fun.  Is Taron a real planet?"

"It is," Turlon confided.  "Want to give it a try?"

"You're joking, right? We'd be talking hundreds or thousands of
megacredits to outfit this mission.  That's resources on a planetary
scale, all to do what?  Drop an ex-CAP Trooper onto an interdicted
planet for a few weeks?" Buck barked a laugh.

"Can I get you to spec out what you think it would take?" he asked amidst
the howls.  "I'll need to put that in my paper when I discuss the cost
analysis of such a mission."  Turlon handed Buck the datapad, "and be
specific."

He slid the MiniComp back to Turlon.  "Thanks for the best dinner conversation
I've had in a while.  Now, how about that new kitty I was talking to ..."

"The cat's meow, Buck.  She's the cat's meow," confirmed Turlon as he
patiently listened to Buck's tales of conquest for the remainder of the
night.

The next day Turlon reported to the Sensei on what he'd learned
and gave him Buck's figures.  Sensei nodded and took the information in.
He listened as well to Buck's requests concerning training in the
weapon's forms of the planet and said he would look into that as well.

Several days passed as Turlon continued his studies as well as
his crash learning of Taronian culture and language.

Then he was summoned again to Sensei.  "As you may have surmised from your
training by now, there is a weapon in use on Taron which is similar enough
to our Fith'Ik that you should have no trouble using one.  You will have
to adapt your style on the fly, if neccesary, since there is little
data available."

"Your plan for insertion and recovery has been tentatively approved, as well."
Sensei leaned closer, "Where did you come up with these data?" he asked.

"I spoke to Buck about the independent study course I am taking," answered
Turlon.  "The feasibility and cost effectiveness study for such a project
required outside resources, sir."

"I see," Sensei said thoughtfully, "So Buck knows of the plan but thinks it is
a theoretical exercise?"  He lashed his tail in a way that Turlon
read as acceptance.  "A ship is being provided and prepared. For a pilot,
I was thinking that R'claw Purr'owma was the obvious choice.  A backup
pilot would, of course, be needed.  I think that perhaps Jack Buck
would be the best choice given that he already has sufficient knowledge
to be compromised should it come to that."

"Yes sir," agreed Turlon.  He knew that Buck would be turning the scenario
over and over in his head and probably add a few bells and whistles to make
it all the more doable.  Besides, he could always toss more ideas off his
friend provided that kitty with the big golden eyes didn't start to confuse
him.

	*		*		*		*

Turlon approached Sensei and requested more detailed information
about the mission in order to make his plans. "Our information
indicates that the most likely location for the ForeRunner site,
if indeed there is on, is in the mountain range on the large
continent.  Therefore, we would like to drop you somewhere near
the city-state of Vrestnoor.  From there you may be able to
gather information that would be of use to you, since it is
the largest population center and also a center of learning.

"You are looking for a ForeRunner site.  What that would mean to
the Taronians, I am unsure.  If you find the site, we would like you
to make a survey and determine if there is anything there which we would
need to take steps to acquire, and if there is any indication of
smuggler activity at the site.  If there is such activity, you should do
your best to cut it off however possible."

Turlon nodded.  "That sounds simple enough," he said.

"Your sense of humour is one of your strengths, young Purr'Meowr'Hiss'Ka."

	*		*		*		*

Turlon found that his upcoming mission focussed his mind wonderfully.
His studies progressed rapidly as he fluctuated between trying to
decided what to do to prepare for the mission and what to do to
distract himself.  Sensei congratulated him one day in class for
achieving a true breakthrough in his perception of himself as
part of a system as rather than merely an individual moving through
a system.

"Now," said Sensei, "you must begin to study language.  Thought is
formed by language, and to understand a language is a critical first
step in understanding a people.  No," he said forestalling Turlon's
comment, "the set of behaviours that one can learn from sleep learning
and the like are sufficient to allow one to function and to speak
perfectly -- so long as the situation is not too divergent from
cultural norms.  But when placed in an entirely new situation, deeper
understanding is required to divine what to do.  You speak Mek'Purr
fluently, no you must learn to *think* in our language."

Turlon had often wondered about language and its far reaches.  He spoke
Mek'Purr, just as Sensei said, but he knew that more times than not he
thought in TUFP and translated what he wanted to say into Mek'Purr.
Language was much more than just sounds, when he first began to study
Mek'Purr in StarForce he was fascinated at the genesis of the language and
where certain phrases came from.  To be able to think in Mek'Purr would put
him in a mindset that was almost natural and increase his response time --
not to mention allow him to think as a Mek'Purr, or a Taron.

With all these concerns surrounding him, he was almost surprised when
one day he was summoned to the Sensei's clean room and joined there
by Red and Buck.  There was an awkward moment of silence until
Sensei said, "This room is shielded, we may all speak freely."

"Thank gods," exploded Buck.  "This has been driving me crazy!"

Red was a beat behind him, "I've been dying to talk to you guys about
this!"

Kral'Hiss'Growl raised a paw and they fell silent, "Younglings, you all know
what part you will play in all this.  Now it is time to begin.  Jack,
R'claw Purr'owma pack your things immediately.  You leave for Raar'HissP
within the hour and tomorrow you will be shuttled off-planet to where your
ship awaits.  You will have a month to familiarize yourself with it, finalize
your course and do whatever else is needed.  Turlon will join you at that
time and the ship will be refueled.  You will then begin the mission."

The pilots nodded their agreement.  "Are there any questions?" asked
Sensei.

"Do we have anybody on the inside that can assure us that there won't be
any surprises on the day we launch?" asked Turlon.  His hopes that there
was a person in place on the TUFP or Mek'Purr scientific teams that may
know if they were rolling out some sort of hot-shot new surveillance sweep
may have been too much to ask for.

"We have some access to information in the system.  After you enter
the system, you should be able to passively monitor communications.
If something does come up, a signal will be sent if possible.  Much of
that information is on the ship,"  said Sensei.  "Turlon, now you
should begin to make specific plans about your insertion, where you
will try to land and so forth.  There will also be plenty of time
to polish those plans on your system approach -- you'll have a sixty day
coast into the cloud."

"Very well," agreed Turlon.  He turned to Red and Buck and said with a
grin, "I do hope you're planning on logging a lot of hours on the
simulator."

"Believe it!" said Buck. He and Red excused themselves and went to pack.
Sensei waited to see if Turlon had any other issues to raise.

	*		*		*		*

Turlon made his plans and continued to train.  A week after Red
and Buck departed, Sensei called him to meet and showed him
his equipment: Taronian style, clothing, armour and weapons.
The equipment was enhanced in various ways, all concealed. For
instance, the blade of the sword was monofilament stiffened, the
armour made of or strengthened with duralloy, and the helmet
contained an inertial map and communication device.  Turlon began
to practice his combat skills with the new armour and weapons.

Soon, it was time for him to go as well.  His gear was packed and
Sensei saw him off.  He was taken to the starport and boarded
a medium sized ship.  A doctor who was not introduced took
him into his care as soon as he boarded.  "Names are not
needed here," he said.  "The less known, the less let slip."

Soon after they were off-planet, Turlon was put to sleep in the
surprisingly sophisticated surgery.  When he awoke, it was to find
a stranger staring out of the mirror.  There were hints of Turlon
still in the face, but it was Turlon the Taronian rather than
Turlon the human.  He had been kept under to speed his recovery,
and had been wakened scant hours before the deep-space rendezvous
with Red and Buck.

	*		*		*		*

With a hiss of air, the hatch opened and Turlon and his luggage
kicked off into the boarding tube.  He quickly traversed the fifty
meters that separated the ships, pausing in mid-leap to look
at the ship that would carry him to Taron.  From this distance,
it was clearly a space ship, but just as clearly from not much
farther off it would appear to be nothing more than an asteroid.
The lines of the ship had been obscured with debris and hatches,
ports and jets had been hidden in pockmarks.  Clearly the ship
was prepared to pass undetected by visual scans as well as
electronic.

He entered the smaller ship and was greeted enthusiastically by
Red and Buck.  "You look different," said Red, "But you still smell
like Turlon!"

Turlon responded and both Buck and Red looked at each other in confusion.
It was then that Turlon realized he had answered in Taron, it came so
naturally that he thought for a second and translated with a smile, "I was
hoping for an improvement on both counts."

"The Mariposa is offloading fuel and supplies for a few hours, then
we let her get clear before we start our run," expanded Red.  "We
haven't named this ship yet, we wanted to wait for you. Any ideas?"

"How about the Zdravstvuyte?" Turlon suggested using the common Taron
greeting for Hello.

"Umm, yeah, that's an idea," said Buck.  "Personally, I liked the
idea of The Moustache, since we'll be right under their noses."

"I had an idea from your culture," said Red, "what about The Trojan
Horse?"

"Now, where is that scooter?" he asked grabbing his envirosuit.  He knew it
was imperative that he get some time on it so he could judge what handling
idiosyncracies it possessed, 'better now than later' he reasoned.

The scooter was in a depressurized cargo bay, so Turlon suited up and
cycled through.  He put the scooter through its paces, moving around
his unnamed ship, over past the Mariposa and around the a few spacesuited
figures who were shuttling cargo over.

Soon, though, the Mariposa cast off and Turlon returned to the ship.
Onboard and prepping for FTL, Red and Buck were all business, making
sure that everything was checked and doublechecked and that all the loose
gear was strapped down.  "Flight time is five days," said Red.

"And damn the fuel expense," added Buck.  "We're off."  The ship's
torch drive engaged and the run up to light speed began.  "And ...
FTL conversion," called Buck.

"Looks perfect," said Red.  "All systems optimal.  Let's kick back for
a few days."  She looked at Turlon, "Well, Buck and I can, at least
until you tell us where you're going to want to be dropped off, or
where you want to hit the ground, at least."

Turlon went over to the small table that had the map of Taron and began to
explain to Red and Buck the pros and cons of each geographic feature on the
planet's surface.  Finally, he ended with the best scenario and pointed at
the insertion point, his finger waggled down the coastline as he spoke of
taking a watercraft and finally ended up at Vrestnoor.  "We'll pick up at
the same location, we need to check the comm devices and frequencies."

The pilots nodded and tapped a few co-ordinates into the computer,
a fine high-end model, Turlon noted.

"From this we can figure what your best meteoric atmospheric insertion angle
and speed are, then we'll just boot you out the door at the right time,
and you coast down until you get to a few klicks above the surface and
and then fire up the scooter," Red said. "Pickup is trickier, though.
We'll have to do it under power, since you can't calculate an orbit to reach us,
and we can't do one for you since we don't know when you're coming up.
Instead, you start your boost and send a low powered pickup call.  With
luck we'll be the only thing within range on the dayside.  Then we can
figure out an intercept and if we're lucky get you without giving ourselves
away, your job is just to get as high as you can into some kind of orbit
if possible."

"Sounds doable," confirmed Turlon.  "Do we have a weather prediction for
insertion and extraction?"

"Yeah, we're expecting there to be some once you hit atmosphere,"
said Buck.  "Seriously, about all we can say is that it will be high
spring when we drop you in."

En route to Taron, Turlon completed his course of study in linguistics
and carried on with his Meowr'Hiss training. 

He had barely finished his linguistics study when they came out of
warp some 6000 lightseconds away from the Taronian meteor cloud.  Red and 
Buck ran a quick scan and there were several tense seconds until they
announced that they seemed to be clear.  They hung motionless in space
for an hour or so while Red calculated their trajectory, then
Buck took the controls for a six minute burn at 1G.  Then he and
Red doublechecked the trajectory.  All was well.  

"Now, we wait," said Buck. "This is the part that gets less fun."

"Right," said Red, "shutting down non-essential systems now."

One by one the systems on the ship were disabled until only minimal
life-support, ECM, and computer/sensors were left, and those were
running on trickle battery power.

"This is our life for the next sixty days, then you, you lucky bastard,
get to go planetside, while we wait up here like this for anothe
year," said Buck.

"This is our life for the next 135 days, then you, you lucky bastard,
get to go planetside, while we wait up here like this for another
year," said Buck.

"Yeah, I'm the lucky one," Turlon repeated while fingering his new jawline.
He stood and stretched, "You two going to be OK up here?  Don't wait around
if you get caught."