<USS Cervantes> "The Party's Over"

"The Party's Over"
Ashne'e Al Kiara

As the ritual ended, Ashne'e stood back with the others. Across the sea of
cats, she regarded 
the other black-cloaked figures that lurked on the other side of the hall.
They were like two 
separate choirs with like uniforms but unalike alliances. They were even
similar in number, 
although the Cervantes crew outnumbered the daytime archaeologists slightly.

The felines were still lost in a cacophony of wailing, spilling stones on
the altar, dancing joyously. 
What had been decorous and mysterious was now the same Bacchanalian revelry
that expiated 
any religious tension. Ashne'e saw no alcohol, but perhaps these cats had
other tools for 
dabbing their superegos with madness, or else they were uninhibited in the
first place, letting
ecstacy reign with as little effort as sweeping away a cobweb.

Outside the open door, Ashne'e caught a flicker of black material sweeping
past. She drew in her 
breath, guessing it was the missing Ss'thla. She pointed toward the door.
"Follow them," she 
hissed with as much subtle fervor as she dared. The three crewman nearest
the entryway - Lar, 
Machia and Mallory - rushed out.

Ashne'e herself barely had time to refocus her attention before the din
swept itself to a new, 
unfied level. It was like the sound of beating dragonfly wings, high
pitched, accented on beats 
by tin drums twanging sweetly.

The dancing ceased. At once, as though they shared a single mind, the cats
formed a streaming 
procession. At the forefront, the male who had participated in the ceremony
held the elderly 
female statue aloft. She looked peaceful in his embrace. It seemed less like
a funeral procession 
than a coronation. 

Many of the Ss'thla followed this procession. Ashne'e nodded to Kennedy and
the two of them 
slipped into the line. As they passed, Ashne'e whispered, "Follow the
others," to Ciardan.

With McKnight and Bell at his side, Ciardan waited for the procession to
retreat into the distant 
regions of the temple, then joined the other Ss'thla in the shadows, at a
distance calculated to 
increase anonymity. The temple was empty, fur and violet stones litering the
floor like a sand 
painting, beautiful and transient. It was utterly silent, so that even the
faint swish of their cloaks 
reverberated, each carefully falling sound deliniated in a spotlight. It was
like the wreckage of a 
tsunami, curiously like the archaeological site itself, since it held the
echoes of people, the 
memories and refuse of their revelry. It was, at the same time, much less
contemplative, more 
like a frat party with beer cans and chip crumbs literring the carpet. 

Finally the last two Ss'thla departed, and Ciardan, with his companions,
trailed them.


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