After five minutes of excited älf practically jumping on her chair and squeeing like a fangirl (which she technically was), Praeratus decided to shut her up the only way he knew: close her mouth and hold her in place with his psionics.

“Allura, I'm going to let you go in five seconds, and after that I expect you to stay quiet, understood?” He asked the älf woman, who did something akin to nodding with her eyes. Praeratus nodded back and let her move.

“I'm sorry, it's just...You're a Centurion!” She screamed again, albeit much quieter. “I've always wanted to meet a Centurion in person, as in, without the armor and the voice distorters and all that! You guys are living legends!”

“Were.” Praeratus said in a depressed tone, remembering very well the news from earlier that same day.

“C'mon “Said Allura, who was looking at the picture of Praeratus and his fellow therawyrms and officer, therefore not seeing his pained expression.'“. just because you guys no wage your battles to fight the evil forces of the Hegemony doesn't mean you-”

“Allura” He began to said in a low tone. “, with 'were' I mean that there are no other Centurions. Did you watch the news earlier this day about an attack on Hegemony territory?”

Allura's enthusiasm faded into confusion, then realization, and finally into pity.

“I didn't mean-”

“Don't be sorry, they wanted to do it. “He then sighed and sat down on his chair again. “I should have broken his legs to stop him.”

“His legs?”

“Victus. He was one of the best, but also the one who hated the Hegemony the most. Do you know how many of us were there before the Hegemony War?”

“A thousand, no?”

“Nine hundred, eight hundred years of war takes its toll even on the greatest warriors ever made. The brass never told about the losses since, well, a hundred deaths in less than a millenium is not bad, even for hyper soldiers. But the near complete annihilation of the regiment of those same hyper soldiers in less than a hundred years... That's too much, even for therawyrms.”

Praeratus then lowered his head and held it on his hands, grunting all the while. He wasn't crying, but it was obvious he was grieving.

Allura got up from her chair and, slowly as to not startle Praeratus (he may not have PTSD, but he could still suffer of something similar) she approached the therawyrm and put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

Praeratus looked up from his nearly crouched position in confusion.

“Praeratus, I'm sure that someone has probably told this before, but as long as you don't forget your brothers and sisters, and what they accomplished in life, they'll never be forgotten.”

Praeratus, hearing this, smiled at her. In truth this was the first time ever someone had said that to him. He was also pretty sure that this was not how you helped someone with either a traumatic event in some point of their lives or depression, but he still felt grateful for the bounty hunter.

“Thanks, I needed that.” He said before standing up and stretching after stooping on a chair for half a minute.

“Well, now that we know each other a bit more...” Allura said. “Can I ask you something, something that is a bit personal?”

Praeratus looked at the älf noble with confusion.

“Well, go ahead, but I don't know why would you ask me something that 'is a bit personal' to you at this point. We just met you know.”

“Well, it's not exactly personal, and thinking about it it's not that important, but...” She said before trailing off, putting her arms behind her body and rubbing them in embarrasment; she even blushed! To many this would have seemed cute, but to Praeratus it was clear that something was off with the bounty hunter.

“But?”

“Could you help me with bounty hunting?”

Praeratus stared at her for at least half a minute.

“Allura... First, I don't think you need any help from me since just one hour ago you were beating the shit out of several men, and castrated one. Second, you, like, fought in the Hegemony War and didn't get killed or captured, so you have to be a good fighter to have done so. Third, you told me this is your fifteenth job, so it's not like you're inexperienced. And fourth...”

Allura expected him to say something about the lines of him not willing to fight anymore, or not after the recent deaths of his fellow discharged Centurions.

She got sorely dissappointed.

“We just met. Literally if I may add.”

“I know, but... You were a Centurion, the best soldiers the Milky Way had ever seen! AND you're also a psionic, and a purple one to boot! You can't imagine how many älfs would rip their scalps if they knew a therawyrm outmatches them in psionics!” Exclaimed Allura. “Besides, I don't want you to work with me or anything like that; just having a giant, tough looking therawyrm that definitely looks like a veteran next to me when I'm around people would help my reputation.”

“You want reputation?” Praeratus said in a puzzled tone. Granted, he didn't really know much about bounty hunters, bust most didn't want to be known by the average person, preferring to be faceless warriors that did the hard jobs for the government. Those that were known and even had nicknames had the misfortune (or luck, depending of how it was looked) of doing extraordinary feats, surviving impossible odds killing quite a lot (of anything), or deliberately making themselves known and selling their image. What Allura wanted put her in the last of those.

“So, you want to sell your image or something?” Praeratus asked.

He immediatly regretted saying that when Allura glared daggers at him, and not just figuratively speaking, she grabbed several kitchen knives from the drawer with telekinesis, and while she wasn't aiming their edged at him, the threat was clear. Or she was too angry to notice she grabbed those knives, who knew.

'How the hell did she know where I put those? Hell, WHERE did I put those? Haven't seen them since I bought them' He thought.

“Do NOT compare me with one of those self serving bastards!” She yelled before realizing what she was doing and blushing in embarrasment, a sheepish expression on her face. “I mean, I'm not a bounty hunter for the money. I beat bad guys and bring them in to save people, serve the Confederation and in general do some good. The money is just a bonus.”

“Just a bonus? For a bounty hunter?” Praeratus said in a skeptic tone, knowing that bounty hunters literally earnt their living with their profession (although in some cases they earned of their income through other means, like the aforementionend image selling).

“Praeratus, I'm a noble of Altea, and not just blue blood but with direct relation with the royal bloodline.” Allura said in what seemed to be tone between proud, haughty and matter-of-fact. “I don't like to brag or boast of this, but being a noble means I can get things for free in any Altean establishment or business the moment they see my face.”

“Well, I don't want to sound offensive to you or your people, but I've never seen your face until now.” Snarked Praeratus.

“Of course you haven't, I work with a helmet!” Allura said in a proud tone.

“So... You want people to know about you, yet you also wear a helmet when you are around those same people.

“I want people to know about my persona, not me personally.”

“I can get it, but...” Said Praeratus before trailing off himself.

“But?”

“Say, do you know of any bounty hunter that is both known and also willing to walk around with their head uncovered?”

Allura didn't waste time in putting two and two together and blushed in embarrasment.

“J-just help me okay!?”

Praeratus did something he had never done since the end of the War.

Laugh his heart out.

“Praeratus, it's not nice to laugh at a lady!” Celestia complained as both entered Ponyville.

“Oh c'mon!”

And so Praeratus, after submiting a resignation letter to the company he worked for, started to go with Allura when she hunted, becoming a bounty hunter himself. Eventually he sold his house and moved to her ship, a warp-capable pink-hulled freighter repurposed as flying home, to live with her.

At first, when it was time to find and capture bounties, it became clear that Praeratus was the better fighter (and psionic, and pilot, and intimidator, and, well, many things) of the two, but when it came to actually speaking with other people, Allura was a natural people's person, which made sense given she was a noble and her past as a Psionic Warrior, which despite their powers were much more outspoken and casual than Gene Warriors (and Centurions for that matter). Not that Praeratus was unable to speak to others, he just preferred to be blunt and straight to the point.

Of course, speaking to people and beating bad guys wasn't the only thing that came from their partnership.

In the early months, it was simply a close partnership, a therawyrm and an älf, both veterans of the Hegemony War, hunting down drug and weapon dealers, felons, runaway convicts, a genetic monstrosity from the Hegemony that survived the war... Over time, however, the partnership gave way to a full friendship, in which Praeratus told Allura many things about the therawyrms, the Clans of Kharan, the Centurions and his many tours of duty in his long life. She, in turn, told him about Altea, her family, her own tour as Psionic Warrior, and her early days as bounty hunter.

And that friendship, in turn, gave way to love, something he never though he had on him.

When the Confederal High Brass caught up to what the last Centurion was doing, they contacted him and... told him to be careful after he told them that Allura knew his secrets. They didn't fear that she would reveal his secret, nor that people would discover who he was (Centurions hardly were without their helmets in public, and even when they got them off they always had cloaking fields that changed the color of their skin; most non-therawyrms had difficulty telling one from another if they had the same skin color), only that Praeratus wouldn't eithe reveal it to others nor get himself killed.

Now the only problem was Allura's family.

And not just the blood-related relatives.

“Ah, It's good to be home.” Allura said, stretching her arms up and letting the sun of her home kiss her face. She was dressed for the ocassion, wearing the Altean dress she wore for special... ocassions. Like being in Altea.“ and land after three days in warp.”

One day Allura received a message from her parents Alvor and Melenor, reminding her that it was time for her mensual visit to Altea to see them.

The stunned reactions they when they saw a therawyrm walking in the room with a gorgonops puppy on his arms was near would have been hilarious if she had sent their image to a comedy show.

And that was before Coran, the family's butler, bodyguard, friend and all around weirdo entered the conversation and. His eyes tripled-no, quadrupled in size!

A short conversation later, the three asked Allura again to visit them. Three days of warp travel later, they were landing the ship on her family's personal landing zone, which only they could use.

“It's your parent's fault for calling us when we were at the other side of the Confederation.” Praeratus pointed out as he came out of the ship, wearing his blue mess dress uniform and a beret because he literally had nothing else that could be called formal.

(Well, he had, but he didn't like wearing jackets and jumpsuits all the damn time)

“Mph, you're just complaining because you don't like wearing that.” She said before a certain hyperactive pup gallop down the stairs and yapped at her to get her attention. “Who's a very nice gorgonops that doesn't mind anything? Who is? Yes you are!” She baby-talked to Cyranus while hugging and coddling him, making him yap in happiness and Praeratus laugh.

They had adopted the little thing after rescuing him and many other animals from an animal fight, illegal fights in which beasts from all parts of the Milky Way fought for their lives to amuse people. Many animals that were domesticated yet dangerous had ended there as future fighters, but this one didn't have anything linking it to any owner, so they decided to take it.

And besides, taking care of a baby gorgonops could serve as training before, well, you know.

“Well, now that everything's done, let's go see my parents and Coran.”

“Coran? Who's that?”

“The redhead with the magnificent moustache who's also the family's butler and my old nanny.” Allura said as the two walked towards the castle of her family through the streets of the city, älfs of many ages watching as the daughter of their ruler walked alongside a mountain of a therawyrm man with a mix of awe, confusion and unease.

“Anything else I might want to know about him?

“Well, aside from a butler he's also my parent's bodygard, my father's comrade from the war with the Selenites, and also a mechanic. Don't worry you'll like him.”

“'Father's comrade'? They fought in that war?”

“Yes, though since they were in the Garrison they did little more than repel Selenite attacks.” Allura informed, But anyway, at the very least they shall respect you from what your job durning the Hegemony War.” She said. Talking as they were they didn't realize they were just one street away from the Castle of Lions, seat of her family and her former home. Sure enough, three älfs, two men, (one powerfully built and with a magnificient white beard, the other much smaller yet with an even more magnificent red moustache), both wearing typical Altean noble clothing and one woman in a pink dress, were already walking down the stairs to meet them. “And one last thing before we meet them. Coran's also, well... weird.”

“What do you mean with-”

“Only saw him half naked, who this!”

Celestia couldn't contain her laugh. Hell, she wasn't just laughing, she was belly laughing!

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, but Coran didn't leave me the frack alone anytime we were on Altea!”

Neither had realized that they had finally arrived to where the play was about to take place, nor the fact that the creatures present were looking at them in confusion.

And Celestia wasn't prepared for what came next.

Sorry for the long delay and the shorter chapter, I'm a bit busy with my novel. As always like and comment.