?Khan's statement left no room for discussions. He wasn't giving an opinion or an order. He had said what would happen, and his teammates didn't know how to reply. They remained silent, watching him inspect the main deck.
The ship was a bit too big and complicated for Khan's training, but he recognized most commands. Turning on the pilot's menus and skimming through them gave him a basic rundown of its functions. With enough time to prepare, he could quickly adapt, and the loading state would grant that.
As for the Global Army, those worries never crossed Khan's mind. The regulations might go against him, but no one would dare to step up to stop him. Even his teammates couldn't find the strength or will to refuse him.
Of course, Khan knew his behavior was arrogant and uncompromising. He was almost doing everything in his power to sour the potential relationships with his teammates, going against the purpose of having companions in the first place.
Things were also harsher for Randall. He was supposed to be the team leader, but Khan didn't mind his words at all. Khan acted as his superior, building walls around him while spouting ultimatums. In that situation, he was no different from a spoiled descendant.
However, Khan had his reasons. He was also unable to explain them, leading to that misunderstood behavior. He could only do his best to secure his position, and being the only pilot would greatly help in that field.
The different roles compartmentalized most duties, smoothing out the team's functions while also creating unawareness. For example, Kirk wouldn't and didn't need to know Celeste's progress in her job, and the same went for the other teammates.
Randall was the only exception since he was the team leader, but Khan didn't want the additional responsibility and in-fighting. Inspecting things from the outside also granted a clearer view, so he preferred to remain a simple specialist.
Nevertheless, Khan couldn't afford to be completely ignorant about the team's actions, and being the sole pilot could fix that. He would assume a key role necessary for almost every task and gain access to the ship's records, making it impossible to hide information from him.
Randall and the others didn't understand nor imagine Khan's intricate reasons but couldn't object to his demands either. No matter how arrogantly Khan behaved, his fame preceded him. He was a celebrity with all the right social connections and achievements, and things didn't end there.
The mission was happening thanks to Khan. At least, the Global Army was pushing that narrative. The Thilku trusted him, so they granted humankind priority over Baoway. If Khan were to back out for any reason, entire interspecies deals might have to be renegotiated.
Those kinds of missions didn't happen often either, so every specialist in the political envoy wanted it to go forth and succeed. Their careers could benefit too much to let their pride or annoyance get in the way.
Khan ignored the main deck's silence and the eyes that followed him to familiarize himself with the various commands. Yet, that peace ended up being short since Marcus barged into the area with an announcement.
"Madam Pakenwell," Marcus called. "Kirk finished booting the computer. Your software should be online."
"Thank you, Marcus," Celeste replied, "But call me Celeste from now on."
"I'll try, Ma'am," Marcus said, lowering his head in respect before pointing at the deck's interactive desk. "You can access it from there."
"Let's try it out," Celeste exclaimed, approaching the interactive desk and turning it on.
The announcement inevitably attracted Khan's attention, and he joined Amy and Randall behind the interactive desk to check Celeste's work. Holograms rose into the air, occasionally flickering, but each label remained stable enough to allow Celeste to find her file.
"The instability is an energy issue," Marcus reassured from the main deck's entrance. "It won't be present once the ship's tank is full and operational."
"Don't worry," Celeste responded. "No one is questioning your work."
Marcus grinned before recalling where he was. Khan and the others were focused on the holograms, but Marcus still tried his best to retain a serious face. He was among big shots, and his feats paled compared to most of them.
The symphony updated Khan on every emotional swing, and witnessing the interaction tickled his curiosity. He knew Celeste was affirmed in her field, but her name seemed more respected than he expected.
Khan's expression never flinched nor moved, so no one understood the contents of his mind. Everyone continued to watch Celeste browse through the flickering holograms, and her software eventually filled them.
A short list of words appeared on the leftmost part of the holograms, and possible explanations occupied the columns on the right. Khan only needed a look to understand what he was looking at, and his brow tried to furrow.
The software listed a series of Scalqa words the Global Army had probably recorded during the previous trips. The holograms showed less than forty, which was reasonable due to how short those visits had been, but Khan focused on different issues.
Words weren't an accurate description of the list's contents. Khan saw human letters meant to replicate what the scanners had picked up, but everything was too short. According to the software, the Scalqa used syllables rather than proper words, and most seemed to replicate primitive grunts and cries.
'Troublesome,' Khan couldn't help but think before his curiosity took over. "Do we have voice recordings?"
"They aren't the clearest," Celeste admitted. "The first teams ran everything through a different software to come up with these words, but the original files are here."
Khan nodded, but his expectations remained low. Picking up on the Scalqa's intentions would be challenging even with clear recordings, especially if their language was a mess of short sounds with no proper grammar.
"What do you think about this, Major?" Celeste asked, running her finger over the list of recorded Scalqa words.
The question snapped Khan out of his thoughts, and his expression didn't stay still now. His piercing eyes went on Celeste, digging through her skin to find a way into her skull. Her intentions were obvious. She was testing him, but the reason was unclear.
During Khan's inspection, Celeste retained a calm face, but her mana told a different story. Although they were both in the fourth level, only one was a seasoned warrior, and only one was the monster of the battlefield. Celeste had to summon all of her cool to avoid sweating on the spot.
"I should be the one asking that question," Khan commented. Celeste was the xenolinguistic expert, so it was her role to fill in those deployed on the field.
"Teamwork is key to the success of this mission," Celeste explained, her coolness hanging by a thread. "Our expertise overlaps, so sharing opinions might help us both."
Khan couldn't help but take another look at Celeste. Her modest appearance was highlighted by her tied brown hair in that public context. She was slim but out of shape. Celeste probably didn't fight or use spells in years, yet she still stood up to Khan.
Celeste's words were also a clear jab at Khan's behavior. She wasn't insulting him but still wanted him to cooperate with the team. Her request was far from unreasonable, but Khan remained hesitant.
Nevertheless, the public nature of the conversation allowed a third player to step in. Amy's gaze went sharp for a second before retrieving its na?ve vibe and accompanying a few words.
"That's a good idea," Amy exclaimed. "I already shared my opinion with Celeste. Do you want to hear it, too, Major?"
Khan's and Celeste's attention inevitably fell on Amy, and the former nodded to authorize the following explanation.
"The simplistic and seemingly random words hint at a primitive form of language," Amy declared. "The Scalqa probably didn't develop any grammar or streamlined dictionary. They rely on association by sound rather than meaning."
The hypothesis was sound, and history supported it. The Global Army had encountered other primitive species, and its alien allies had shared knowledge in the field. The Scalqa words could be short simply because they referred to sounds.
Still, Khan struggled to jump to conclusions. The mana made everything more complicated. It could transmit fully-fledged emotions through short and meaningless cries, and the Scalqa had it.
"Do you disagree, Major?" Celeste questioned, noticing that Khan had fallen into his thoughts.
"No," Khan said, half-sighing. "Not completely."
The curiosity inside Khan intensified. He liked the topic, and having worthy experts to discuss it with was rare. He could feel words accumulating in his throat, and his best efforts could only try to delay them.
"A poor vocabulary doesn't necessarily mean primitive language," Khan explained. "It's the same with technology. The Scalqa might be behind in those fields simply because they have better options. It wouldn't be the first time I saw that."
The Niqols had access to technology, but their roots came from natural environments. The Nele were surrounded by man-made metal but mostly relied on mana. The Nak imbued their voice with feelings, making proper language superfluous. Alternatives existed, and Khan had witnessed them multiple times.
Celeste appeared pleased by the explanation. A faint smile broadened on her face as if acknowledging Khan as a fellow expert, and Amy couldn't refrain from adding something.
"Wow," Amy gasped. "You are the real deal, Major. No wonder every scout looks up to you."
