Free The V'Dan by Jean Johnson

water washed off the little scraps of stubble, along with a swipe from a cloth to dry his face. He had already showered, then dried and braided his hair. It was time to don one of his uniforms.
    These were true uniforms, properly tailored and properly styled, not the approximation the Terrans had managed. Properly armored against most handheld weapons, too. Not that he expected to be attacked, but without the plasflesh painting his cheek, hiding the distinctive length and hue of the
jungen
stripe extending beneath his right eye, he couldn’t hide who he was. Imperial Prince Kah’raman V’Daania and not merely Captain Li’eth Ma’an-uq’en. Someone always had a grudge against the Imperial Family. Sometimes, they tried to express that grudge physically.
    For that matter, the Salik could strike at any time. There wasn’t a prophecy guaranteeing his survival if he became a Salik captive a second time. That meant staying out of their tentacles. He’d fight to the death if that happened again.
    (
I’m getting some grim, unhappy subthoughts from you,
) Jackie’s mental voice interrupted. Her
telepathic
touch felt like a warm ray of sunshine slipping down between the clouds spreading gloom throughout his mind. (
Is something wrong?
)
    (
Just thinking,
) he tried to dismiss, leaving the washroom. A prod from her, however, told him she wasn’t going to let the subject go until he aired it. Pulling out his clothes, Li’eth replied while unwinding the towel from his hips. (
I had bad dreams again, this morning. About the Salik. On top of that, today is your semiformal introduction through the windows. I’ll be expected to be on hand as the highest-ranked anyone inside quarantine. There is always someone in any large crowd who has a grudge against the Imperial Family.
    (
Your people constrained themselves to just shouting an occasional, “Go back wherever you came from!” and “Earth for the Earthlings, not for the weirdlings!” but I didn’t feel physically threatened. Then again,
) he allowed, threading a belt through his pant loops, (
your people had no idea anyone else of our race was out here, away from your home system.
    (
I’m not sure how my own people will react, though. Knowledge that we came from another world is a major religious foundation stone. It’s sort of been expected that if anyone survived the cataclysm of the Before Time world, they’d have grown up to be wise and mature and . . . not what your people actually are, which is very V’Danic . . . ahh . . . what’s the word in Terranglo . . .
Humanistic?
Very
Human
, at any rate. Mortal and fallible and prone to the same lows and highs in every direction . . . which may be disappointing for many, and outright mind-shattering for some. Concerns for our safety are therefore making my thoughts grim.
)
    While she mulled that over, he pulled on undershorts and socks, then reached for the dark crimson trousers with their hard-to-puncture meshweave interfacing. Cream-colored shirt, bright red jacket with golden lapels and matching meshweave interfacing. Jacaranda did not press the point as he continued to dress but changed the subject somewhat.
    (
Part of me isn’t thinking grim thoughts about that, so much as I’m busy thinking this is going to be like seeing a new species of animal in a zoo,
) she told him. (
“Come, watch the rare polar bear through the bars of the cage! Throw peanuts at the albino elephant! Watch out, for that monkey will try to fling its own feces at you! Step right up, it’s just ten credits per visit to see the new Terrans at the Alliance zoo!”
)
    A snort escaped him. Mouth involuntarily twitching up atthe corners, Li’eth straightened from tugging on his boots and checked his image in the mirror on the inside of the washroom door. Blond hair damp but neatly braided, with streaks of burgundy here and there, the one long tendril of burgundy angling down across his right eye, the broad side lapel, the frogging