Promotion
A/N: Thanks again and again for the reviews! This story takes place a little farther on in brownrider J'fren's life at StarStorm Weyr. It's about 20 Turns since "Black Between" and the Third Pass has begun. Finding there is too much territory on the Southern Continent for one weyr, the Leadership decided to open Great Barrier Weyr and have gone to a Flight system, where the wings rotate flying Threadfall.
Disclaimer: I do not own or operate Pern!
P2.01.27
Sleep. That was the one thought foremost in J'fren's mind as he scrubbed the firestone stink off Shimuth's hide. Sleep. Even the late night Threadfalls had to be met, but that didn't mean he had to like it. It was simply obscene that he should be bathing a dragon, with four hours yet to go before dawn, after having fought Thread. It threw his sleep cycle into confusion, and he was barely conscious, now. When his Flight had a Threadfall that began two hours before midnight, there was no time to get any real sleep beforehand, and when he was finally able to crawl into bed, he slept the whole morning.
I've half a mind to sleep here on the sand, he told his dragon, when they finished bathing.
I know, Jeff. But I want our weyr. You will be cold and might have a pain in your back if you sleep here, Shimuth replied.
That's the only thing that's inducing me to climb on to your back and letting you fly us up, his rider said, wearily. Shimuth proffered his foreleg, and Jeff clambered up. Dragon and rider flew to their weyr and Jeff left his smelly fighting gear on the ledge to air out. He donned his loose, comfy sleep pants and was asleep, almost before he could pull the sheet across his body.
An insistent knocking woke him long before he had slept himself out. "Go away!" he exclaimed and turned over, pounding his pillow over his head. The knocking continued. "Leave!"
Jeff, it's S'vin, Shimuth said.
The Flightleader? What the shell was his Flightleader doing at his weyr?
Shimuth, would you be so kind as to tell Gridath to tell his rider that I am still too sleepy to think and that, if what he needs me for is not urgent, that I will see him in his office when I am awake and functioning?
There was a pause. Gridath says it is not urgent. His rider wishes to ask you something, but it can wait. He says he didn't intend to wake you and apologizes, Shimuth answered.
Tell Gridath it's all right and thank him for conveying the message.
I have.
Good dragon, Jeff mumbled and immediately fell asleep again, too sleepy to even wonder what S'vin wanted.
Shimuth was hungry, so Jeff sent him to the feeding grounds before he went to see his Flightleader. He spoke to the greenrider in the outer office.
"Morning, or afternoon, or whatever, Nanora. S'vin asked me to stop by."
She smiled at him. "Late morning, Jeff. I'll tell him you're here."
"Thanks. Would there be any klah around here anywhere?" he asked.
"Surely. I'll get you a cup."
"You're a love, Nan," he said.
The greenrider announced Jeff's presence to S'vin and brought him a mug of steaming klah. He took a long pull at it. "Now then," he sighed. "That opens the glowbaskets. Thank you, Nan."
"Don't mention it. Oh, by the way," she said, with a sly smile, "Vaildrith rises in a couple of sevendays. Just in case Shimuth feels like stretching his wings."
Jeff grinned at her. "I'll let him know," he said.
S'vin popped his head out of his office. "Come on in, J'fren," he said.
"Thank you, S'vin," Jeff said, and standing, winked at Nanora and entered the office. At the bronzerider's gesture, he seated himself.
"I apologize for waking you this morning. I'm apt to forget that not everyone prefers to wake up at dawn, as I do," S'vin said with a chuckle.
"Not a problem. I dropped right back off," Jeff replied. He cocked his head at the Flightleader. "So what did you need to ask me?"
S'vin paused and looked intently at the brownrider. "Since we opened Great Barrier Weyr and have gone to this Flight system, we've been shuffling riders about, regrouping the Wings, getting established. I realize we don't have a permanent Wingleader for Center Watch yet, and I'm thinking about who would be the best rider. However, I do have a definite decision about one thing. J'fren, I'd like you to consider taking one of the Wingsecond positions. We need the leadership in the Wing,"
Jeff's black eyes widened. "Me? I'm flattered, but I'm sure there are some bronzes who would be more suited to the position," he answered diplomatically.
S'vin snorted. "Don't be so modest. You know you're a good leader. And we need a brownrider in one of the positions. It's easier for a green or bluerider to approach a brown than to deal with bronzes all the time. They don't feel so overshadowed."
Jeff took another swallow of his klah and pondered the Flightleader's words. "I don't know, S'vin. I'm not sure one of the younger riders might not be a better idea."
S'vin shook his head. "No, I don't think so. You're young enough that you can relate to the younger ones, but you've been a dragonrider for 26 Turns. The older riders will feel comfortable with you, as well. Besides, you're Harper trained and you can deal more easily with the files. I've got to have someone in Center Watch who can do the paperwork. You wouldn't believe how behind the records are."
"I can do the paperwork, would do it if you asked. But Wingsecond?" Jeff looked doubtfully at S'vin.
"J'fren, every evaluation you had as a weyrling, every leadership potential report you've had since you joined a fighting Wing have all said you would be a good Wingsecond. These are experienced riders, men who have led and trained fighting Wings for Turns. I trust their opinions." Seeing his rider still looking very dubious, he pulled out a file. "Still don't believe me? Here's G'tun's first report on you when you were tapped into Center Watch." He read, "Brownrider J'fren, at nearly 18 Turns, of course, still has maturing to do. However, when he has gained the necessary seasoning and experience, I can foresee excellent Wingsecond potential for him." S'vin glanced at Jeff. "And look at it this way — you'd have your own office and would rate a ground-level weyr — one of the nice ones."
"You know that's not an enticement for me," Jeff said.
"I know, and actually, that's another reason you're the perfect rider for the job. You're not concerned with rank and privileges. You treat every rider with respect for his or her abilities." S'vin leaned over his desk. "I want you to take this position, J'fren. I need you and the Wing needs you."
Jeff took a long look at his Flightleader. He said silently to Shimuth, What do you think?
Gridath says I am a good dragon and you are a good rider. And, it would be nice not to have to fly all the way up to our weyr after we fight Thread. You will do well, his dragon firmly replied.
"Well, Shimuth is tired of flying up to the weyr after Threadfall, he tells me, and he thinks I should do it. So," Jeff stood and extended his hand. "I guess you have a new Wingsecond."
S'vin grinned broadly at him and grasped his forearm. "Thank you, J'fren. I can't tell you how pleased I am. I'll announce your promotion at supper tonight. Nanora already has the papers drawn up."
Jeff shook his head. "I might have known you would have everything ready, because you knew you'd wear me down. You're a persistent man, S'vin."
"One has to do what one must when one leads a Flight of dragons. Nanora also has your new weyr assignment. You can start moving in this afternoon, if you like. Your office has a hallway connection to your weyr, by the way."
"Thank you, S'vin. I appreciate your faith in me and in Shimuth."
"I know it's not misplaced, Wingsecond J'fren."
Jeff chuckled at the title, saluted his Flightleader and left the office.
"Congratulations, Jeff. You'll be a fine Wingsecond," Nan said as he came out.
"Thanks, Nan. I hope so."
"You will. Just come here and sign your promotion papers and I'll post them in the Wing's ready room."
Jeff took the proffered stylus and signed the papers. Nan took the records from him and laid them aside for the ink to dry. She came around from behind her desk and hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Vaildrith sends her congratulations, as well," she said, handing him the weyr assignment notice. He returned the embrace and the kiss.
"Tell Vaildrith thanks for me," he said and left the office.
Jeff perused the assignment notice and went to see his new digs. They were, indeed, spacious. He had a large living area, a dining area, two extra rooms, and even his own private bathing room. Great Faranth! Hadn't he come up in the world? He chuckled, a little ruefully. He who had no patience for rank, was now a Wingsecond. Fate surely had a sense of humor.
He then went down the short hallway into his office. Him with an office. What a hoot! He supposed he would get used to it, eventually. He opened the door and peeked in the office and laughed aloud. S'vin, anticipating success, had moved at least a dragonweight's worth of Records into Jeff's office. Boxes were everywhere. Jeff rifled through a few, noting they mainly needed to be organized and filed. That wouldn't take too long. On the desk was a list of the Weyrlings who had just been tapped into the Wing, and the notation that they all needed performance evaluations. Looks like he was going to be busy, right off the mark. Oh, well. He had known what he was getting into. He perused the list of recent Weyrlings. That was probably his first priority. He could get the Records filed gradually, as he had the time.
Shimuth, I need you to bespeak the dragons of the most recent Weyrlings to join the Wing and ask them to ask their riders to schedule a time to meet with me for their first performance evaluations. Tell them they can leave a note on my office door that says when they can have the meeting.
All right. Short pause. I have done it. They all send their congratulations to you for your promotion.
Tell them thanks, please, Jeff replied to his dragon. He looked around the office yet again. We'll move in tonight, he told Shimuth. I think I'm going to have to start on all this right away. No use allowing it to get farther behind than it already is. He seated himself at the desk and then shifted in the chair uncomfortably. "A cushion. Gotta see the Headwoman about a cushion," he muttered. He pulled the first box of Records across the desk with a sigh and started going through them.
P2.06.15
The meeting was not going well. J'fren leaned back in his chair, one hand thoughtfully at his chin, as he listened to his Wingleader, R'shad, as well as Flightleader S'vin, remonstrate with M'toon, rider of bronze Aniseth.
"Blast it, M'toon! None of us is casting aspersions on your bravery, or Aniseth's abilities. But you cannot take these kinds of chances with your dragon!" That was R'shad.
"But he can do what I ask him! Just ask him if he can't!" M'toon argued.
"He tries because he wants to please you, M'toon, not because he has a realization of his limitations," R'shad said.
S'vin sighed. "M'toon, we are going into the second Turn of what has been, until now, a very costly Third Pass. We have 48 and-a-half more Turns to go. We have lost far, far too many dragons and riders, mostly because we were not prepared. None of us sitting here are likely to see the end of this Pass, except you. And you won't unless you stop trying to be a hero every time you mount your beast. We cannot afford to lose a single rider or dragon, of any color." The Weyrleader's tone was somber. He glanced at J'fren. "Wingsecond, you've worked a lot with this group. You've seen M'toon in action. What are your thoughts?"
J'fren leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Diplomacy or brutal honesty? "M'toon, Aniseth is a fine dragon. He's one of the best bronzes of his clutch. Smart, good lines, stamina to burn, and surprisingly agile for a bronze his size. He's got the makings of a legendary Threadfighter." M'toon brightened at this praise until the Wingsecond continued, "But you, his rider..." J'fren shook his head. "You're intelligent enough, but you have no concept of what is real bravery and what's just a weyrbrat being stupid and showing off. You're addicted to showing off. You've just got to be the center of attention wherever you are, on the ground or in the air. Plus, you think you're invincible. That's normal in someone your age, but when I was 19 Turns and thought I knew it all, no Thread was falling. Thank Faranth, I'd reached my fortieth Turn when Thread returned, or I'd not have lasted as long as you have. But Thread is falling, M'toon. And every time you put on your wherhide to fight--every single time--you're putting yours and Aniseth's lives on the line. You can't decrease your odds of coming back alive by taking those crazy chances."
M'toon's face was rebellious. "Wingsecond J'fren, I know what my dragon can do. You just don't trust that I do. And you don't trust Aniseth that he knows what he can do."
At this, J'fren's temper erupted. The Leaders saw it coming, but as one, decided to allow him to vent.
J'fren slammed his hand down on the Flightleader's desk. "Shards and shells, M'toon! You are an idiot! A reckless, careless numbwit on a bronze dragon! I never thought I'd see the day when such a fine dragon paired himself with such a useless excuse for a deadglow rider!" Here, Aniseth bugled indignantly, and was silenced by an irritable bass rumble from Shimuth.
"But for the fact you ride a dragon... Any master in the Smithcraft would have long since thrashed your sorry hide for pulling like stunts in the smithy. You ride a dragon. That means you take on the responsibility of fighting Thread and protecting the people beholden to this Weyr! You screw up and you kill yourself, you might take other riders with you, and you could very well cost lives on the ground! We are honor bound to this profession! It's bad enough that you should take chances with Aniseth, but to have no more regard for the people who give part of their livelihoods to keep you fed and clothed and your dragon fed, well, it's just past tolerating. I can't speak for the Wingleader, but if you were my sole responsibility, so help me, I'd ground you until Aniseth goes between with age, rather than risk other lives because you have to show off and act like you're the biggest, flashiest rider ever to Impress!" By this time, the brownrider was nearly nose-to-nose with the bronze youngster. His dark eyes were flashing with rage and somehow, M'toon felt that the Wingsecond would do something painfully drastic if he so much as twitched.
R'shad looked wryly at S'vin. Considering what they both knew of J'fren's temper and his acid tongue, M'toon got off with a slap on the wrist. Both knew the Wingsecond was quite capable of insulting a man, all the way back to his ancestors at Landing.
Fighting to keep a straight face, R'shad said, "Well, M'toon, I think the Wingsecond has admirably expressed all our feelings on the subject. We've all had it with you attempting these acts with your dragon, and refusing to take any responsibility for it. Your attitude needs serious adjustment. It is my recommendation, then, that you be grounded for the next four sevendays. You will also assist the Beastmaster in his duties caring for the feeding stock, and you will attend the classes for the group of Weyrlings who are hearing lectures on responsibility to one's dragon."
J'fren nodded. "May I add something to that, with your approval, Wingleader?"
"What's that?"
"I suggest that M'toon work with the groundcrews at various locations for every Fall he misses while he's grounded. Perhaps it will give him an appreciation for what he does, and for the work people have to do behind him when he doesn't mind what he's doing."
R'shad nodded approval. "An excellent idea, Wingsecond J'fren. We'll have someone fly him to the location. Aniseth will be comfortable in his weyr right here."
M'toon's face had gone pale. Grounded? For a month? Oh, Faranth. But at least he had the sense to stand and respectfully salute his Leaders and leave the office without a word.
The door closed and the two Leaders looked over at their Wingsecond, whose face was still grim.
R'shad snickered. "Shells, Jeff--tell M'toon how you really feel, why don't you?" S'vin began to laugh, as well.
Some of the anger faded from Jeff's face and he too, chuckled, albeit rather ruefully. He rubbed the back of his head. "I'll tell you--there for a minute, I was ready to knock him into the middle of next sevenday!"
"He could use it," the Weyrleader said wryly. "But I think you gave him plenty to chew on."
"I hope so," Jeff replied.
The riders were talking Threadfall tactics over klah when Jeff suddenly looked up. His eyes lost focus for a moment. "Gentlemen, I hate to leave you, but looks like Shimuth has decided he needs to mate. I have somewhere else to be."
S'vin nodded understandingly and smiled. "By all means, Jeff. Good luck to Shimuth."
Jeff nodded briefly at the Leaders and left the office. Who is it this time? he asked his dragon, as he quickened his pace to the flight chambers. He walked swiftly--the Flightleader's office was quite a ways from the Lower Caverns.
Vaildrith. I want her, and this time I will catch her!
Aha. Nanora's green. Shimuth had missed her the last time he rose for her. His dragon's choice was fine with Jeff. Nanora was an attractive woman, and she liked him--had suggested Shimuth chase for her green, even. Jeff had never shared her furs, but the thought was an intriguing one.
You go for it, big guy, Jeff said to his beast. I sure won't mind if you catch her.
Not if. WHEN. Shimuth's tone was determined.
His rider chuckled as he made his way to the Lower Caverns. He reached the door of the flight chamber just as Vaildrith launched herself skyward, with a hiss at the watching males.
Catch me if you can, boys! Vaildrith and Nanora said, simultaneously.
Immediately, eight dragons were in the air behind the green. Jeff saw through Shimuth's eyes the four browns, including himself, three blues and--a bronze? Well, well. Someone must be hungry.
Vaildrith barrel-rolled away from one pursuing blue and crowed as he dropped from the chase. The other blues tired quickly, as well, leaving the stronger browns and that bronze. Shimuth stayed close behind Vaildrith, matching her aerobatics. She was a big, strong green, and had more lasting power than most of her color. Jeff/Shimuth quickly discerned that one of the pursuing browns and the bronze were fighting it out, so he let them have at and focused on the green intently.
In the flight chamber, Jeff stepped toward Nanora and said hoarsely, "Come on, you," as he touched her arm. She jerked it away from him. "You haven't won yet," she hissed.
"No, but it's only a matter of time. You know you want it," Jeff answered, his eyes wild.
"But do I want it from you?" she said.
The third brown had dropped out long since, and the bronze and second brown were so busy trying to nudge one another out of the way, they lost sight of Shimuth and Vaildrith in front of them. She tried for an extra burst of speed, but Shimuth anticipated her and caught her neatly, twining his neck with hers, and causing the other males to roar with outrage as their riders left the chamber.
Jeff pulled Nanora to him and kissed her with possessive male arrogance. "Yeah," he whispered in her ear. "You definitely want it from me. Until you are limp and sated and Vaildrith and Shimuth have long since come home, you want it from me. All night. All night."
Nanora was taken in Vaildrith's mating lust, but Jeff's suggestive words sent an extra wave of fire through her blood. She pressed herself to him as they sank to the bed, and she threw his shirt to the floor. "You're right. I do want it from you," she purred. "Come here, you sexy thing." Jeff's last conscious thought, before he abandoned himself to passion, was that this was going to be a memorable flight.
Jeff woke up slowly and felt for his dragon. A smug satisfaction radiated from the brown. Good flight, eh, you rascal? he said to his beast.
You could say that. I beat out a bronze for Vaildrith, Shimuth answered.
You've always been a fast dragon. That bronze never stood a chance, Jeff remarked.
True, the brown replied. I wanted Vaildrith very much.
And here we are, his rider said. He looked at Nanora, still asleep. It had been a memorable flight. Nanora had found certain aspects of being a greenrider that suited her temperament very well. She was, by no means, a tart, but mating with different riders when her dragon rose was not a problem for her. She allowed herself to unite completely with her dragon and lose herself in the mating heat. It made it better, in fact. When two riders abandoned themselves to their dragons' emotions, they tended to create a sort of loop. Jeff could feel Nanora's pleasure and passion through Vaildrith's link with Shimuth, and Nan could feel his through that same link, which in turn, intensified everything and made the flight a better experience for both riders.
He cuddled her a little closer, and dozed himself.
Jeff felt Nanora move beside him. "Hi there," he said.
She turned to face him. "Hi yourself." She grinned at him. "You sly thing. You just let Mobeth and Tuscuth fight it out, while you trailed Vaildrith. Very slick indeed."
Jeff winked at her. "Shimuth is a smart lad and he wanted your dragon. No use in waiting to see who won the fight, when there was ground to make up. So, he just did what he does best--fly fast."
Nanora kissed him. "And his rider did what he does best."
Jeff chuckled. "Well, I do take pride in my work."
"You ought to, sweeting. What time is it?"
"I'd say midmorning. Shimuth," he said aloud. "What time is it? Is it daylight?"
Yes. Gridath's rider says it is midmorning.
What does S'vin want?
To tell you there is a Wing meeting this afternoon.
Thanks, Shimuth.
You're welcome.
"Shimuth says it's midmorning and I have a Wing meeting this afternoon."
"Oh, then I'd better get up--much as I hate to," Nanora said.
"Why in such a hurry, Nan?"
"Well, if there's a Wing meeting, then I'll need to get some paperwork together. Not because I want to leave you, that's for sure," she said.
"Thank you. Far as I know, I'll be in my weyr tonight. Drop by if you've a mind to," Jeff said.
"I may. I may just do that." Nanora stood and stretched. She pulled her top on and her underwear, then went to find the skirt she was wearing. She hissed as she moved.
Jeff looked at her, concerned. "Are you all right?"
"A bit sore, but nothing bad." She grinned at him. "You made good on your word, brownrider. It was all night and I was definitely limp. Shells, but you know how to treat a woman."
He smiled as he pulled on his trousers. He stood and went to embrace her. "I'm sorry you're sore, though," he said. "I didn't intend to be rough."
"You weren't. Just--enthusiastic," she said wickedly. "A bath will take care of it. Now kiss me one more time and let me go get cleaned up and tend my dragon."
Jeff gave her a long, sweet, soulful kiss. "I hope I'll see you tonight, sweeting," he said.
Nanora kissed him again in reply and quit the flight chamber.
Jeff slipped his shirt on and buttoning it, walked out, whistling.
"Slick watchwher," came a voice behind him. It was P'laul, Mobeth's rider.
Jeff turned and grinned at the bronzerider. "Don't get caught in a fight next time. Keep your eye on the prize," he said with a chuckle.
The rider slapped Jeff on the back. "I'll remember. I heard you put the blocks to M'toon in B'don's office yesterday."
"Can you blame me?"
"Shells, no! That little brat was going to get people killed. Dragons, too. Maybe this will be the lesson he needs to get his head on straight. I just hate to punish Aniseth. Not his fault."
"Not at all," Jeff agreed. "Aniseth is a fine bronze. M'toon is just too reckless. He's got a good heart and will help anyone who asks him to do anything. He just can't keep from showing off. Maybe if we rein him in now, it will keep a disaster from happening down the way."
"Hope so. I know you're hungry," P'laul said with a wink. "See you at the Wing meeting."
"See you there," Jeff answered. He sighed. He liked mating flights well enough — but they always put him too far behind in his Records. As he walked through the kitchens, he asked one of the Lower Caverns women to bring a bowl of hot cereal and a pitcher of klah to his office. He walked in to the never-ending cycle of paperwork.