Jaal followed the human Pathfinder, ostensibly giving a tour of the Resistance headquarters on Voeld, but he was far more interested in observing her. She walked into the hangar shivering from the cold, but the wonder on her face was easy to see and gratifying. He sometimes forgot what a marvel the headquarters was, but through the aliens' eyes he was able to see it anew.
The largest space was in front of them, the hangar with a few shuttles undergoing maintanence, or waiting for fighters to go on the next mission. Further in through the hangar was the medical bay,—with far too many beds filled—the barracks, and command center.
Ryder, in particular, seemed to focus on the details around her. Nothing seemed to be beneath her notice: an injured fighter was staring at her, so she walked over and made cheerful small talk, chuckling as she wiggled her five-fingered hand for the man to wonder at; later, she quietly agreed to check on a supply drop that was missing so that panic wouldn't spread among the ranks, then talked with genuine interest to a priestess about specifics of angaran spirituality.
He could almost hear Evfra's warning in his head: "Don't trust too readily."
But he was finding it harder and harder to maintain a cool, professional distance. Joan Ryder and her companions were—there was no other way to say it—enticing. They bickered among themselves like adhi, but the next moment were hunched over a vid, howling with laughter over jokes he did not understand and watching each other's backs when it was needed most. And they were so different from each other. Vetra with her spiky shell as hard as armor; Liam and Ryder both with that flexible mass on their heads that they called "hair;" Peebee with her odd tentacled head, and Drack who was so old Jaal still had trouble comprehending it. But these differences didn't seem to separate them except for good-natured digs that even Jaal recognized as playful.
In short, they felt like a family.
And of course, there was Ryder.
Jaal hummed to himself as he watched her examine a broken console, her face alight with interest. She was curious about everything angara, always turning to him to ask a clarifying question, or asking him to explain something that didn't quite translate, surprising him a couple of times with her insight.
He was beginning to admire her intelligence, ready laugh (very angaran), curiosity about everything they saw. Other aspects of her were hard to read; she felt very flat—emotionally—to him sometimes, but he was beginning to see that this wasn't like the angara, who might suspect you had something to hide, but a natural reserve that seemed common to all humans to varying degrees. Not quite shyness, though he thought Ryder had some of that too. At least her facial structure seemed flexible and emotive when the occasion warranted. He wondered at times if he would ever be able to read the body language of Drack and Vetra, whose faces were far more rigid.
Jaal had read the accounts of the ketts' arrival. From what he understood, they'd always been aloof, even when they were pretending to be peaceful.
These aliens had few pretensions. Even when they were perplexing, there was an honesty about it.
But despite her alienness, there was something powerful about Ryder, something compelling that he found difficult to explain.
Was he wrong in feeling drawn toward them? Evfra wouldn't approve, but then again, the old man approved of very little.
"Oi, Joanie!" The one called Liam waved over at where Jaal and Joan were standing. The Intelligence officer had been explaining several of the symbols on the large, globular map. At Liam's voice, she turned, her strange, furry eyebrow ridges—no, he thought, correcting himself, just eyebrows—rising in expectation.
"Something up, Liam?"
"Overheard scouts talking to the Admiral. Blizzard sweeping through. We'll be stuck here for a few days."
"But Techiix!" Joan protested. "We told Admiral Do Xeel we'd go."
Jaal stepped forward. "During a blizzard, my people will find shelter. Even the kett do this. Very little will be happening while we wait the storm out."
Joan glanced at him, the light from the nearest sun lamp catching her oddly colored green eyes, and nodded. "SAM, tell the others to remain on the Tempest for now. No sense in all of us getting trapped in the base."
"Acknowledged, Pathfinder."
Joan turned to Jaal again, her face determined. "Okay. What can we do to help?"
Jaal nodded in approval. "Let's speak to the admiral again. I'm sure she'll be more than happy for a few extra hands getting the barriers in place."
Within moments, Ryder, Liam, and Vetra were helping shift the snow barriers outside the hangar. These were large, metal fences that prevented the snow from piling up too high outside the secret entrance during a blizzard. Once those were in place, everyone, including the forward watch posted just outside, retreated inside and shut the doors.
Vetra scurried over to the nearest sun lamp, shivering so hard her mandibles made a clacking sound against her bony jaw.
"Now what?" Joan asked, walking up to him, snow crunching under her boots.
"Now?" Jaal shrugged. "We wait. Those without tasks will find something to do."
"What about us?"
"Well… we could sing, dance, play games, maintain our weapons…"
"Snowball fight!"
Out of nowhere, a frozen projectile flew through the air and splattered against Joan's chestplate. Snow splashed up into Joan's face and, standing next to her as he was, Jaal felt some prickles as it hit his exposed skin. He looked up to see Liam, grinning and laughing as he retreated.
"Oh, you're on!" Joan whooped and ran after Liam, who yelled something about "jump jets" and "cheating." Within minutes, a snowball war began to rage from one end of the hangar to the other. Jaal looked around at the other Resistance fighters standing around in the hangar. A few seemed shocked, others seemed annoyed, but more and more, he saw smiles. There hadn't been much opportunity for fun lately.
"Vetra, come help!" Liam shouted, ducking. A snow ball hit his leg and he yelped, diving behind a crate.
"No way," Vetra said, still huddled next to the sunlamp, "I'm—" But whatever she was going to say was muffled with a squawk of outrage as Joan threw another snowball which went wide and it hit Vetra squarely in the cupped portion of her cowl, splashing up into her face.
Silence fell, then Vetra rose to her impressive height, scooping out snow from her cowl, eyes narrowed to slits.
"Eat snow, Ryder!" she crowed and joined Liam. Soon Joan was huddled behind a stack of crates, unable to even poke her head out without getting splattered by snow. Jaal hesitated, unsure. He felt drawn to the fun, but would the other Resistance members disapprove? Evfra would object, for sure.
He caught Joan's eye and she grinned, her face alight with joy, and suddenly he was grinning back, and diving into the fray.
"Someone needs to watch your back," he said, skidding to Joan's side, scooping up a massive snowball almost the size of her head and lobbing it in Liam's direction.
Liam and Vetra dove out of the way, but the snowball was big enough that when it hit, it still got snow on both of them.
"Ha!" Jaal laughed.
"Right on!" Joan whooped, lifting her hand, palm facing outward.
Jaal looked up at it quizzically. "What are you doing?"
"Oh yeah. You wouldn't know..." Joan said. "Give me your hand?"
Jaal extended his hand slowly, wondering what she was going to do.
She reached down, raising his arm so that it was facing outwards like hers and tapped their palms together. "We call this a 'high five.' It's like, um, cheering on a teammate that did something awesome."
"'High five,'" Jaal repeated. "Five fingers up high?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Joan said, crinkling her nose as she smiled in a way that Jaal found unnaturally fascinating. Angaran noses didn't do that. "Between us, we have eight fingers. Maybe when humans and angara high five should call it a 'high eight' instead?"
"Maybe." His fingers twitched and curled over hers. Her eyes widened, the skin on her cheeks changing color.
"Less handholding, more snowballing!" yelled Liam just before a snowball smacked Joan in the side of the head. She spluttered with indignation, yelling a few words Jaal's translator couldn't pick up, and scrabbled around in the snow, packing frantically.
The fight resumed with renewed fury and soon, Jaal was pleased to see other Resistance fighters joining the fray, their hesitation about the new aliens disappearing in the joy of just playing.
Suddenly, a pair of fighters barreled through the middle of the hangar, shouting something and running toward the doors.
Snow balls dropped from hands, friendly taunts stopped dead. The runners reached the massive door to the hangar as it cracked open just enough to let in three angara, one of whom was being supported by the other two. Jaal saw blue blood running from the injured angara's leg, though it seemed strange until he realized it had frozen to her skin.
The Resistance fighters who'd been in the snow ball battle drifted off, some back to their duties, the others, greeting the newcomers and getting them closer to the sun lamps.
Joan bit her bottom lip, turning to Jaal. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have—"
Jaal put his hand on her shoulder. "No, this was needed," he said, gesturing at the fighters with his other hand. "Look. Can you not see the burden lifted in their eyes? We fight an unending war… that doesn't mean we forget how to live. How to have fun. You gave that to them today."
"Thanks, Jaal," she said. "That means a lot, coming from you."
"How so?"
She looked startled, then lowered her eyes in an expression he didn't quite understand. If she were angara, he'd accuse her of being coy, but that didn't seem to fit with what he knew of her so far.
"Well…. You're obviously important to the Resistance, and Evfra's top lieutenant... I've seen how beloved you are here. Your good opinion is worth having."
He cleared his throat. "You honor me, Pathfinder." Heat flooded into his crest, turning his frills a brighter blue, he was sure, though he didn't think Ryder had learned to read evidence of his embarrassment.
"Pathfinder." SAM's voice coming out of the speaker of her helmet—set next to them on a stack of crates—made them voice jump. "The temperature is continuing to drop due to the blizzard's arrival. I recommend retreating further into the base where the concentration of sunlamps and people are higher."
"Right," Joan said, breaking eye contact with Jaal and scooping up her helmet. "You heard him," she said to Liam and Vetra who stood at a nearby sun lamp, looking damp and disheveled from the snow fight. "Let's get further in and dry off."
"No argument from me," Vetra said, using her longer legs to quickly outpace the rest of them.
Ryder gave Jaal one last smile, then turned to follow her. Liam hurried ahead too, brushing snow from his hair, leaving Jaal to catch up. But he didn't mind the momentary solitude. He needed to remind himself of what was at risk. As much fun as the snow ball fight was, as intriguing as Ryder and her crew were… he had to keep in mind what was most important: ensuring the survival of his people against the kett.
But perhaps…
"Jaal," Ryder said, pausing to turn around. "You coming?"
He smiled and easily leapt forward to catch up with her, enjoying the look of surprise on her face. "Yes," he said. "I am."
She laughed, nose crinkling again. "So are all angara good jumpers or just you?"
Perhaps the angara would no longer have to fight alone.
-End-