Welcome to Spain – thanks for joining Warren's adventure. Don't forget to sign up for a story alert if you wish to be notified whenever a new chapter is posted.
A nice, lo-o-o-ng chapter (my favorite kind)! So let's dive right in.
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Chapter 3
Warren approached the galley and peered in. Ettwanae was eating – again. Another sign of molting is an increased appetite – and hers was already robust without the annual feather shedding. Thankfully, Volu produced monle, a gruel-like substance that contained all the additional nutrients an Eshaaru needed to grow new pinions at a rapid pace. Problem was Ettwanae wasn't eating monle, but everything else. Warren wisely chose to ignore the issue and let Volu handle it. He had another point he'd like to address.
He reminded himself to tread carefully. Ettwanae's moods had begun swinging more erratically since their decision to let him remain on board several days prior. Volu and the others had warned that her molts were intense. Tensions had already begun to build within the small confines of the living ship. He'd gauge the woman's emotional state as best he could before getting into any conversation.
"Good morning!" he began with an inoffensive amount of cheer. A wide smile greeted him immediately. Tentatively, he sighed mentally.
"Good morning!"
She seemed in a good frame of mind. That, though, could change moment by moment he'd been alerted with great theatrics by Flint. Warren understood all too well how hormonal changes caused discord and the littlest thing could trigger ire. The two shared a comfortable silence as he set up the coffeemaker to brew a pot of caffeine while Ettwanae focused on consuming breakfast with gusto.
Ettwanae slyly watched her soulbound-to-be tend to his morning beverage routine. How she longed for him in every way. Uncombed hair gave him a rumpled look, and the muscular body clad only with pajama bottoms stole her breath. He was so handsome – so incredibly sexy. Tingles in her lower abdomen sent pangs of remorse over what they couldn't do. She sighed silently. Rousting Aru at day's beginning wasn't appealing, so she refocused intensely on her meal.
Task complete, Warren plunked down, grabbing a zante from the plate in front of Ettwanae on the way. Then he quickly checked her face for signs of displeasure. "These are out for everyone, yes?" A flicker of something passed through the incredibly blue eyes, but then passed quickly.
"Of course."
He took a bite of his favorite Turzent Empire breakfast food – a cross between a sweet biscuit and bagel – before getting down to business. The wonderful aroma of 100 percent Kona coffee began wafting enticingly through the galley.
"I have a question for you," he began. Her eyebrows cocked up, creating a delightfully inquisitive look. Libido stirred to Warren's chagrin. God help him on the long journey ahead! "You had mentioned you wanted to visit the museum curator again – Tribo'lu. I am wondering if that is something you still want to do."
The question was a bit of a surprise – she thought he'd forgotten. Ettwanae shook her head with determination. "No. The more I think about it, the more I feel it would be a waste of time, especially now. Mother would have told him little of value. And you and Volu were right – it would be dangerous to return as he is probably very angry with us. Not worth the risk."
He nodded. Logic had won out in the end. "Hopefully, Atmos will be a much better lead."
Ettwanae put her zante down and studied Warren's face. "Atmos scares me almost more than Neu. It could be a Dark One colony or their homeworld or…worse."
Warren risked fully waking Aru drives and reached to place his hand atop hers. "Or it could be a major lead…or better."
Ettwanae smiled, rubbing her thumb on his protective hand. Warren was once again trying to soothe her fears, and she loved him for it. Then something she'd been wondering about popped into her mind.
"Since you asked me something, I have a question for you. Don't know why I didn't before – just accepted it as part of you, I think," she explained with a tilt of her head reminiscent of a raptor mannerism. "You have two names – Warren and Archangel. Archangel is the name you used as part of that group you belong to on Earth, right?"
He nodded. "Yes, but I haven't been an active member for years."
"But the comnet refers to you only as Archangel, not Warren. Why?"
"Ztar liked the name, so it stuck."
Her eyebrows went up. "Do you still think of yourself as Archangel?"
Warren contemplated. "You know, that's something I haven't really thought about, but I don't think I do – at least not as the X-Man Archangel. That persona died six years ago."
Ettwanae sensed a heavy weight behind the statement. She wanted to know more. "Then why didn't you ask Ztar to call you by your real name?" She saw his chest rise and fall.
"It's complicated."
"We've time…" she encouraged.
"Archangel has a different meaning with Ztar than with the X-Men. For a long time, it carried…difficult memories and associations. Now though, it's his name for me and holds mostly pleasant connotations."
"Difficult memories concerning Ztar or the X-Men?"
He closed his eyes briefly. "Both," he answered tensely, immediately regretting opening that door.
"Remember when we played the game called Twenty Questions on the way to Neu? You said something about being used for twisted purposes. Are those the bad memories? Is it too painful to talk about?" Ettwanae felt Warren shudder ever so slightly.
He didn't want to discuss all the garbage attached to the name. It was behind him for the most part. 'Leave it there,' a voice inside told him. Yet another part of him wanted to share the old pains with Ettwanae. Maybe it was the way she was looking at him; blue eyes filled with compassion and hope he'd open up. Yet Ettwanae and Volu already had doubts about Ztar's trustworthiness; telling how the man had ripped him away from his life and into sexual slavery would likely be something she wouldn't understand or forgive. She may also find it impossible to understand how Warren could have forgiven the man and actually come to love the big lug as a true friend. No, that secret needed to be kept.
"Ztar and I didn't start out on the best of terms, but we ended up very close. He loves the name and to him I'm Archangel. Who am I to argue with the Emperor?" he offered lightheartedly and punctuated with a grin. He hoped it would end the line of questioning.
Warren was being evasive – Ettwanae would have wagered the entire remaining stock of zante on it. Immediately, irritation snuck in. She pulled her hand away and narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand the situation between you and Ztar at all. There's only one way to become soulbound. He is a man. You obviously like me and I'm a woman. Are you oriented both ways?"
The sudden change in conversational direction was startling. "Are you asking whether I'm bi-sexual?" A delay tactic at best. He had to extricate himself from the conversation quickly as it would lead to nowhere good.
Hormones flooding her system made Ettwanae not only easily irritated, but brazen. She wanted to get to the bottom of Warren's relationship with the ruler of the Empire. Thus far, all she'd gotten whenever the subject came up were redirects and sidesteps. She'd not go away without answers that day.
"Evidence says you are," she snapped, eyes locked to his.
"And if I am?"
She crossed her arms in determination. "I don't care about that. I simply want to know how you ended up in a relationship with Ztar."
'Oh, boy, this is going downhill fast! Need to make a hasty retreat.' He pushed back the chair. "Ettwanae, I'm sorry, but some things must remain private when it comes to the Emperor. This is one of them," he offered as gently as he was capable.
Instant anger consumed her. Yet again, he was dismissing questions about the monarch. He was her intended – they were destined to be soulbounds. Secrets were inexcusable. "You said I'm important to you…that you care about me! If you did, you'd trust me to keep things between us. What's so secret about how you met Ztar and why you two became very close, as you put it?"
"It's not secret, Ettwanae, it's private – there's a difference. I don't like talking about an old relationship with a person I'm in anoth- a possible new relationship with."
"You don't trust me."
He sighed. "It has nothing to do with trust."
"Then why did you say it's because he's Emperor? How could the story of how you became close be so private? Are you embarrassed? Did you do something wrong? What?"
He couldn't help himself anymore – he was getting angry. "Would you want me to go around telling how we met? How we nearly splattered ourselves on the side of mountain trying to have aerial sex?!" That seemed to fluster her for a moment.
"You- you wouldn't have to mention that part, but the rest is fine. I'd be happy if you were proud enough of us to tell our story. Most people love to share how they met. Why don't you want to talk about Ztar?"
"O-kay! Ztar came to Earth. He saw me aboard his ship. He liked what he saw and then I went with him and we lived together. End of story."
She was incredulous. "That's it?!"
"Yes."
"I don't believe you," she fired back.
"You think I'm lying?"
"I think you're not telling the whole story."
"Just like I wouldn't tell the whole story of when you and I met."
"It's not the same."
His arms crossed of their own will. "Why not?"
"Because. What'd Ztar do – jump your bones at the first sight of you?"
Old embarrassments and shame reared up, igniting anger. "Where'd you learn that line? Flint? What did you tell him?!"
Her demeanor morphed from mad to pensive.
"It was just something he said once…I told no one about your soulbinding."
He reigned in emotions tightly. "Ettwanae, I'm sorry, but this conversation has become disrespectful, and it's over." He stood to leave.
Ettwanae huffed and crossed arms. "Disrespectful? Secrets are disrespectful. You're keeping secrets after you promised honesty."
"I am being honest when I say that my relationship with Ztar is both over and personal. Upholding Ztar's trust in my discretion about our life together is not dishonest. Betraying his trust would be both dishonest and disloyal. I said you could trust me, and I'm asking you to do that now."
Then in a swift change, her face crumbled and tears began. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to…to betray Ztar, but-" She gulped for air, trying to regain control over emotions that defied her will. 'Goddess, what's wrong with me!' she chided herself. 'I'm being unreasonable. The molt – why can it never be easy?' Sniffing, she wiped the tears away in disgust. "I just want to know everything about you. Don't you see? I want us to be close, but you seem to be growing more distance. You're my soulbound, and I love you…and- and I'm scared about Atmos and now I'm molting and everything's so hard!"
No more words came, only sobs. Warren's heart hurt as regret came visiting. He was her first love, and she likely harbored all kinds of preconceived notions, and perhaps even the classic about how couples should share every thought, feeling, and memory. Beautiful in concept, but naïve. Angry words and accusations forgotten, he pulled her up into his arms.
"I'm sorry for getting upset. And I do understand what you're saying," he offered, stroking a wing as she wept into his shoulder. "Perhaps someday, if Ztar's okay with it, I'll tell you all about him and me, if you're still interested."
A minute later, sniffing and wiping her cheeks, Ettwanae studied Warren. She did love him. Didn't matter that it was an Aru/Ura orchestrated love. It felt real, so it was. He was right. If Ztar had asked him to be silent on their relationship, he must honor the request. Somehow, she'd find a way to accept that part of Warren's life – a five-imperial-standard-year part – may forever be unknown to her.
"I'm the one who should be sorry. I can only blame hormones and wanting everything perfect and wanting it now. Can you forgive me?" she asked hesitantly.
"Nothing to forgive. We'll forget it happened, okay?" The golden-haired head bobbed. "Coffee's done. How about I pour some and we finish breakfast?"
###
Volu listened to the argument – the intended pairing's first true quarrel. How many times would he ask Ettwanae to simply trust him? How many secrets was Warren keeping? First the nannites. Then contacting the Emperor against expressed rules. His feral potential. And the partial transformation; although he did confess to that quickly. Now his and Ztar's off-limits relationship. What was he hiding about that? The deceits and secrets were mounting.
And while Volu was becoming less trustful of the quasi Eshaaru, Ettwanae's feelings were deepening. In her role as guardian, Volu worried that Ettwanae was looking past too much in her longing for a pairing.
Despite all the warnings and potential threat Warren represented, Ettwanae wanted him. While Volu would not go against those wishes, she would watch the man closely.
Warren/Archangel she would not fully trust.
###
As an Etagllot, Sident was use to impossible goals and deadlines. As Director of Biotechnology and a scientist himself, he understood what he was demanding. Head Researcher Hercjell al'Verta also understood what a career entailed when one worked for a scientific organization that was banned and hunted by authorities in three realms.
Sident's holo image floated in al'Verta's lab as she stood before her single most important lab resource – the body of an Esha'Aru female held in stasis and the key to her project's success.
"What's new about timetables being moved up?" al'Verta retorted sarcastically. "How soon do they need their miracle break-through this time?" With a sigh of resignation, she reviewed the results of the latest calibration run.
"60 IDS."
"60 days?!" Sident remained silent, confirming she had heard correctly. "But we don't yet fully understand the complex energy E5 is tuned to! They do realize that she accesses energy from another dimension?"
"They have studied E5's profile and your preliminary report."
Hercjell set her PI down on the stasis pod with a solid rap. "Then everyone understands that what I must do has never been done before. I'm to develop bionites that can open a dimensional portal; calibrate to a complex, multi-frequency energy; and then channel that energy in vast quantity."
Irritatingly, the Director didn't respond.
She threw up her arms in disbelief. Her superiors had doled out 'impossible' assignments before, but the timeframe was beyond reason. "60 days? 60 days to develop not one, but two major advancements – all within the same set of bionites!"
"al'Verta, as you yourself point out, it is but two tasks. The unique energy as you term it is but a variant of lifeforce energy. Granted, vastly more powerful than anything we've encountered before, but lifeforce energy nonetheless. You understand bio energies better than anyone does. Other teams have already perfected technology that will allow the bionites to open the inter-dimensional portal."
The revelation took aback the formerly legitimate Par-Sen scientist. Ire flared instantly. "That breakthrough was not in my project briefing. Why am I first hearing this now?"
"Because until now, the knowledge was not vital to your current focus," the man chastised. "Other teams were also assigned to develop the dimensional capability. News of that success is recent."
Sometimes, her hotheadedness got al'Verta in trouble – a personality flaw she'd been working to correct for as long as she could remember. If she ever wanted to rise further in the Etagllot ranks, she had to get a handle on it. Security was tantamount and sensitive information was withheld obsessively until the exact moment it was needed. One of these days, that might truly sink in.
Director Sident's avatar moved toward the stasis pod, and he peered down at E5. His voice suddenly softened uncharacteristically. "From what I understand, dimensional access was not as difficult as first feared once the specific energy frequency was ascertained, thanks to her," he said placing a holo hand on the top of the pod. "A natural weakness exists in the barrier between our dimension and that of the energy source at a very specific frequency. Once you have modified the bionites to the specifications from the other team and they are tuned to the correct wavelength, the portal will open."
With emotions reigned in, she gazed down on the beauty encased in the stasis pod. E5 was a goddess suspended in the realm of mere mortals. What was her name? How had the Etagllot captured a being from a race long believed extinct? Esha'Aru were traveling amongst the stars when the galaxy's current star-faring races were building with stone or living in caves. al'Verta had so many questions that had nothing to do with her work. What knowledge…what wonders were locked within the mind of E5? What was she like? How did her voice sound? What would it be like to see her soaring overhead?
All wonderings the tough scientist rarely considered with test subjects. They were resources to be used and then dismissed when their purpose was served – no emotional attachments allowed.
More pragmatic possibilities leapt to mind. E5's kind tapped into an energy source of unknown magnitude. With Etagllot scientists on the brink of doing so as well, where would it lead? What if that reserve was unimaginably vast? Her mind raced. What if the Etagllot were about to control an unlimited power source? And why did they wish to tap into it via bionites?
Hercjell sighed. None of that was her concern, and she'd not waste time with meaningless contemplations of things beyond her control or influence. She had a job to do.
Stepping back from the pod, al'Verta did have one unrelated question that had burned in her since the Ymoz failure. The odds of getting an answer were slim, but she felt it worth the attempt as long as she phrased it correctly.
Turning to the holo image standing next to her, she faced her superior squarely. "Director Sident, if I may be indulged just this one time. The transformative bionite project from Ymoz…did any team take that work to fruition?"
Surprisingly, the Director smiled, but al'Verta couldn't say if it was condescending or tolerant. "Head Researcher, your work added to that effort. Naturally, we never rely on a single team for critical breakthroughs. What our organization sets as goals are rarely unmet."
al'Verta would take that as a qualified yes.
###
"Jharda happy?"
The royal residence's master gardener looked uncertain. He had no reason to be. Moit'de's handiwork was pure artistry.
"Happy? I'm thrilled! It is beautiful!" Jharda exclaimed, trying to take in the marvel that had been a rarely used pavilion at the far end of the palace gardens. "I can't believe it's the same place."
Under Moit'de's care, no part of the gardens had ever been neglected, but the carved-stone structure never became the landscape centerpiece envisioned by the original builders and had remained a simply-adorned architectural element overlooking the Imperial Valley.
Slowly turning in a circle, hands clasped to her chest in wonder, Jharda took in the transformation from austere structure to magnificent garden hideaway. The pavilion was Jharda's gift to her lover and husband-to-be. It would be their place – a quiet sanctuary where they could leave the empire and its troubles behind.
"You have performed magic, Srandrez. Thank you is not enough!" By using his first name, which was rarely done, Jharda hoped to drive home how appreciative she was.
"Moit'de happy that Jharda happy." The native Sat'reyan face beamed with delight.
Jharda gave him a quick embrace. "Jharda very happy. Thank you, again." Releasing the man, she smiled broadly. "Ztar will be here soon. You can stay to see his reaction if you wish."
Moit'de shook his head firmly. "This your gift – should be just you and him."
She would not argue. Jharda selfishly wanted the reveal to be private. It was her idea, her vision, and her maneuvering that had kept Ztar away from the far end of the gardens until Moit'de's hard and fast-working crew turned vision into reality.
With her nod, Moit'de departed. Jharda took a seat on one of the cushioned benches to wait. She'd said she wished to discuss vauntus for their child and do so away from palace busyness. It was truth. Vauntus needed to be chosen. It made a viable excuse to get Ztar to the site. The appointed time was quickly approaching.
Though she wanted to spot Ztar as soon as he rounded the last corner of the path, Moit'de's handiwork kept pulling her eyes away. The frame for his masterwork was extraordinary even unadorned by flora and accessories.
Built from the same cream-colored stone used for the palace, the rectangular structure was not massive, but rivaled the palace in its impressiveness. Its carvings were the work of masters, and when bathed in Sat'rey's yellow sunlight, the stone blushed with soft golden tones. Deeply worked columns of stylized leaves were sculptures in their own right. Tiers of geometric patterns formed capitals upon which rested soaring arches that supported the stone-paneled ceiling and created the large, curved-top doorways, one on each side of the building. Inland golden-bronze stone in the ivory floor created wide multi-banded stripes between pairs of columns. High upon sidewalls were multi-pane openings that allowed even more light to flood the space.
As part of the original construction, several stone podiums, and two stone benches were situated strategically for admiring. Each podium held either a beautiful luminary or a metal pot for large plants. The stands were large – some as tall as Jharda – and emblazoned with the symbol of the Turzent Empire on two faces. In contrast, the benches were simple, but of elegant curves and lines.
It was within that framework the master gardener had performed his magic. A vast array of colorful plants filled the space, bringing nature into the manmade structure. Jharda took a deep breath of the sweetly scented air seasoned with hints of spice as she gazed and marveled. Flowering trees at their peak of display stood in the corners. Hanging baskets exploded with blooms, low potted foliage provided calming respites from what could have otherwise become a visual barrage. Vines appeared as if they'd been climbing the walls for years, and large floral displays set upon the podiums drenched the pavilion in even more color and texture. A primary canvas of pinks, lavenders, purples, and greens was punctuated with bursts of deep golds and bright yellows.
A quick glance toward the pathway revealed no Ztar. Jharda giggled at herself for being so excited. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation of her beloved's reaction. Then the beauty all around snagged her attention once again.
Moit'de created small vignettes throughout the room where one could sit and take in the beautiful vistas. Jharda envisioned her and Ztar nestled together to appreciate the views afforded by the pavilion's raised elevation and framed by the arched openings. What one would call the front view was an overlook of the Imperial Valley that lay beyond the manicured grounds. The opposite view looked back to the palace in all its ivory glory; gleaming in the Sat'reyan sun. To one side, was yet another view of the expansive valley that would frame the sunset. Moit'de had done little with those three vistas.
However, the fourth had been redesigned to Jharda's vision. Taking advantage of the existing backdrop of Sat'rey's version of trees, she asked the gardener to create a pond surround by the towering plants with a small waterfall. Jharda loved the ambiance created by moving water and felt the sanctuary would benefit greatly from the soothing sound. Nothing was to be large or overdone, she'd told the man, but should be intimate and feel sheltering.
Moit'de delivered beyond her dreams. Beckoningly, a comfortable bench was positioned perfectly to take in the lush and contemplative scene. Sunrise's light would be captured and reflected in the ripples cast by the falls. A path wound around the secluded pool should Jharda and Ztar feel like a short stroll. She could easily see them walking hand-in-hand, quietly sharing thoughts and feelings…discussing their child's latest accomplishment or joyful moment.
She let out a contented sigh. Jharda was living a dream she hadn't realized for many years was one she even wanted. In that moment, she knew it was the only life she desired. Jharda was with the man she loved, a man who loved her in return, and she carried their child. Life was blissful and perfect. Jharda couldn't imagine being happier.
Movement caught her eye, and she turned to see him rounding the corner. She stood as a broad smile crossed his face, quickly followed by amazement that brought the man to a stand still. His widened eyes asked, 'what is this?'
She smiled so widely it hurt. "Do you like it?"
His eyes traveled around, stopping here and there at a particularly captivating sight.
"Surprised?"
His eyes snapped to hers. "Surprised and stunned! How? When?" Ztar started toward her and his eyes narrowed. "Now you're little maneuverings and the whispers I heard make sense! As does the fact I haven't seen anything of Moit'de or most of his staff for days."
Jharda couldn't squelch a laugh. "Keeping our little project from the empire's most powerful telepath was no small feat!"
He came close and threw his arms around her. "This is for me?"
She looked up into his large, dark eyes. "For us. Our place. Our sanctuary from all that pulls and tugs at us. Here it will be only you and I. No empire. No staff. No Court matters."
Tangling a hand into her hair, he drew her head to his chest. "My beloved, Jharda – thank you. It is beyond beautiful!"
Then he gently pulled her head back and captured her mouth with his. The kiss was deep and filled with love and gratitude. She trembled in his arms and her body instantly ignited, but that would have to wait. Would he always do that for her? Would she always crave his touch, his body? She believed it would be so until the gods called her.
Stepping back, she broke off the kiss tenderly. "Come – let me show you what Moit'de created for us!" Jharda felt as giddy as a young girl. Grabbing his hand, she gave him a tour.
A short while later, they were seated facing the pond and waterfall. It had the desired affect on both as she felt the man she loved grow calm and relaxed.
"This is my favorite view," she offered with a sigh and squeeze of their joined hands.
Ztar nodded. "We are of like mind."
She studied his profile as he watched the rippling water. He was so incredibly handsome. A strong and powerful body; a classic profile on a striking face imbued with strength, large deep brown eyes flecked with gold as was common with their species, and thick, black-crimson hair that hung past the broad shoulders that were meant for leaning on.
As Jharda did just that, she contemplated his strength. Ztar was larger and more muscular than even the largest of their kind due to the experimental DNA augmentation forced upon him years ago. The traumatic event left the man a physical powerhouse and awakened latent mutations of almost sui generus telepathy and an energy field that could kill instantly.
But Ztar was no wanton killer – never was, not even at the height of his empire-building years. The Turzent wielded his weapons responsibility and honorably. The people who bowed to his will were treated with respect and dignity. However, those that did not had felt his sword, but only after ample warning of the consequences of their actions. Ztar was harsh when he had to be, but only when he had to be.
Because of his honorable nature, Jharda chose to join his Court when he summoned. She smiled at the recollection of that awkward conversation. They had not seen each other for a long time, and when they had parted ways years earlier, he had professed his love while she said she needed to follow her career. She left the same day for a new military assignment and promotion. At the time, she believed that while they'd enjoyed each other both in and out of bed, she didn't love him.
She had lied to herself.
Suddenly, she was aware he was looking down at her with an inquisitive expression. "What are you thinking, my Jharda?"
Lifting her head, she gazed at him tenderly. "About us. You. How lucky I am that you are back in my life the way we were meant to be. I love you, my beloved." She took his hand and kissed it softly.
He reached over and drew fingers through her black-crimson mane. "The gods have blessed us." Then his hand moved to her belly. "In more than one way," he added in tones of wonderment.
"They have. I did not deceive you when I said I wanted to talk about vauntus."
Ztar cocked his head. "I thought the decisions were all but made."
She nodded. "I know. Sukja will be mind vauntu, Gtar-Cro for the body, but I'm torn about the soul vauntu. I'm no longer certain Jhadren is the best choice."
Ztar's face showed surprise. "But your brother is a psychologist."
"That is actually what is worrying me. What a vauntu does isn't psychology, but instincts tell me that is how Jhadren would approach the role – clinically. I want someone whose focus would be more…spiritual. I don't want by brother analyzing our daughter at every turn."
Ztar patted her stomach. "Our son will handle his uncle just fine. He will have your strong will – I can feel it already."
She giggled. "My strong will? What about yours? Actually, now that I think about it, we can both be single-minded – perhaps our daughter will get too much of a good thing."
Ztar joined her chuckle. "Son or daughter, we may indeed have our hands full!" Then the strong features became serious once more. "If not Jhadren, then who?"
"Atichi."
Shock crossed the man's face. "But you barely know her."
"My husband to be, sometimes you do not see the obvious. Atichi and I have quite grown close."
"You have?" The man was perplexed.
She patted his arm good-naturedly. "Yes, we have. I haven't flaunted the fact around the palace, but whenever she comes to visit Sukja, we always steal time away to sit and talk. And I occasionally visit her in Yaunra. She is a wonderful person. Very insightful and wise. She would be the perfect soul vauntu, especially given that Sukja will be mind vauntu."
"Why am I finding this out only now? Was it a secret that you and Atichi are friends?"
Shaking her head, she couldn't help but be amused at his obliviousness. "Sometimes, a woman needs to have someone to talk to who is separate from her every day life. Someone who maintains a certain distance from everyone else…for perspective."
Ztar looked worried. "Am I not doing something I should? Archangel often warned me I was…thickheaded, I believe he called it. That I didn't pick up on obvious signs of things I should."
She gave him a quick, reassuring peck on the cheek. "Have no fears, my beloved. You are doing perfectly well. This is a woman thing."
"A woman thing," he echoed quietly as if contemplating the idea deeply.
"Yes. I would like Atichi to be our child's soul vauntu."
"Then Atichi is will be. I want whomever you feel is the right person."
Jharda relaxed. They had their final vauntu if Atichi accepted. Jharda had little doubt that the woman would.
Both she and Ztar had been disappointed when Archangel declined the role, expressing his concern about being too far away to perform adequately. In the end, she had to agree with the Human. A vauntu really needed to be close at hand to be a steady influence in a child's life.
She wouldn't say it to Ztar, but having a woman mentor was another factor in bypassing her brother. A girl sometimes needed a woman other than her mother to turn to in areas of womanhood. Jharda believed wholeheartedly that Atichi would make her perfect stand-in. The Ozjaerian's advice would be filled with maturity and wisdom should their daughter ever need it. And if the child was a boy, Atichi's female sensibilities would offer a good counterbalance to an otherwise all-male lineup.
Parents that followed the old Turzent tradition assigned three vauntu for a child – one for the body, another for the mind, and a third for the soul. Body vauntus guided a child in building a strong, fit body ensures training in the warrior arts is part of the child's schooling. A vauntu of the mind focused on the child's mental development to maximize cognitive potential. Soul vauntus offered guidance in areas such as self-expression and nurturing the inner self. They assisted the child in building a positive self-worth and solid relationships and learn empathy. Vauntus worked as partners with the parents in raising a fully balanced child, healthy in body, mind, and soul.
Ztar's deep voice pulled her from her thoughts. "My heart still tells me the Archangel would be an excellent soul vauntu."
Jharda looked at the father-to-be. "It was a disappointment when he declined, but Atichi will perform well."
"I've no doubts she will. But Archangel…what he's capable of…" Ztar shook his head. "I wish our child to know him, learn from him, to have an…an Esserru in his life as I did."
Jharda felt Ztar's renewed hurt of Archangel's choice. Then inspiration struck – an old reference she remembered.
"Perhaps, my love, there is a way…"
###
Roughly 15 Days later…
"Damn!" A scowl of concentration and anger filled Flint's youthful face as a battle cruiser blew. "I'll get you for that, bastard!"
"Eat space debris, Reilly!" Warren's face was equally reflective of intense determination.
The battle was epic – the one for LanicWorld itself. Warren's alien forces had driven to the heart of Flint's empire, leaving a trail of destroyed ships and shattered defenses, and were dead-set on taking over the planet. Flint's Lanican military was sworn unto death to protect it. With the enemy at their stronghold, the war had come down to the single two-front battle for everything.
Boredom and restless confinement had driven Warren to near desperation. Flint had pestered, poked, prodded, and basically made a nuisance of himself until 10 days earlier. Warren finally gave in and began playing the computer game Flint and Volu had designed - LanicWorld. To Warren's surprise, it was quite good. A blend of empire building, space wars, and 'Civilization,' it had enough strategy aspects to hold Warren's interest and ample supplies of shot 'em up action to satisfy Flint's more adolescent requisites. The best part was that one could play the game either on your PI or through holo projection.
That particular day, they were using the holo-interface and the battle scene, along with various game controls, floated in front of each player. Warren sat sideways in what was usually Gatebi's favorite gathering room chair, wings dangling over one arm and legs across the opposite. Flint took up a reclined position on the lounger, his lanky frame stretched out as the action hung above him.
Warren's experience in battle strategy gave him a clear advantage in that regard, but Flint's hundreds of hours playing the game he co-created were hard to overcome. Warren was determined, though. His ground forces were so close to the enemy's land base of operations, he could almost taste victory, but Flint had the upper hand in the battle for space raging above the planet despite Warren's destruction of one of Flint's cruisers.
Arms, hands, and fingers flying to manipulate the multitude of elements, the combatants were oblivious to time and surroundings. When Gatebi strolled in, it was as if she didn't exist. She walked to the middle of the gathering room and looked back and forth between the men. Still nothing. She cleared her throat.
"Not now, Gabby!" Flint managed to chastise. "Can't you see this is it?!"
The Alcab crossed her arms. "I see two grown men playing a game…a game that you've spent nearly 100 tona playing over the past 10 days according to Volu. There is business to attend to."
Half of Gatebi's putdown got through to Warren. Part of his brain split off to do the math. A tona was roughly two-thirds an Earth hour. 100 tona equaled 66 hours. One helluvalot of hours, and he was not about to lose with that much invested.
Moving ships and ground troops into position for the final assault, Warren spared Gatebi a quick question. "Can whatever it is wait a bit?" Then he let loose with a defense-busting barrage of firepower at Flint's base. "Nowhere to go, Reilly!"
"Rule space, rule the planet, man!" the teen shot back. "And I rule up there!"
"We've arrived at Ayni. We should be preparing for the supply house."
Flint growled as Warren's ground attack broke through his base shields. "It's not going anywhere, Gabby! We're busy."
"Volu says we shouldn't stay here longer than necessary. Ettwanae and I agree."
"It's us guys against the girls, War," Flint pointed out to his gaming opponent, just as his space armada blasted through one of Warren's key offensive positions. "Ha! Take that, bastard! That'll teach ya to attack Lanic!"
Warren's turn to growl.
Suddenly, the air went blank.
"What the fuck?!" Flint yelled.
Warren jumped and blinked.
Volu had obviously made the decision.
"The game will be preserved at the exact moment it ended," the living ship stated blandly.
Flint sat up sharply, green eyes flashing. "But I was in the zone! You can't reboot that, Vo!"
Warren swiveled his legs to the front of the chair, resettled wings, and looked up at Gatebi. A condescending scowl was equally split between the two men.
"Thank you, Volu. Apparently, these two believe that fantasy play is more important than our survival."
Warren was a bit indignant about the situation. Wasn't he supposedly in charge? Volu's action was a direct affront. "Ayni will be there a half hour from now."
Ettwanae's head popped through the doorway. The scathing expression said it all. "About time! What's with you two and the ridiculous game? We've got work to do. Get moving!" Just that quick, she was gone.
Another check of Gatebi's face revealed much. "Let me guess, her mood has soured," Warren surmised.
Alcab features softened to take on a pained expression. After a check of the doorway to make certain Ettwanae was no longer there, she nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "While you two have been immersed in LanicWorld for the past 10 days, Volu and I have taken the brunt of her deteriorating emotional state. Haven't you noticed?"
Warren and Flint exchanged dumbfounded looks.
"I didn't think so. When you have emerged, Warren, she's was so happy to get a bit of your attention, she'd brighten up, but we've moved beyond that now. The past two days, all she's done is complain about how much time you and Flint are spending together and the rest of us are…well…distractions, though her language was more…inventive."
Warren was puzzled. Why hadn't Gatebi or Volu said something? "Volu, why did you continue to activate the game if that was the case?"
The air turned stiff. "Because it would have made little difference. Ettwanae's ire would have simply shifted to other focuses."
Realization dawned on the two male faces. "We've been thrown under the truck, War. Damn!"
Warren nodded, but felt it was likely he who had been tossed, and Flint was unfortunately dragged under with him. "Then we best get down to business if that's what got her upset right now."
Flint sighed and rose. "It's gonna be a lo-o-o-ong molt. I've got your back if you've got mine," he vowed to his fellow male.
Warren couldn't help but grin at Flint's hopeful yet pleading expression. "We need a man cave – somewhere safe."
"Bomb shelter is more like it!"
"Just like men – run and hide when someone gets a little emotional!" Gatebi snapped and then marched through the exit muttering something that sounded very much like 'cowards.'
###
Gatebi, officially in charge of supplies, ran the trio through final prep. "Supply list."
Flint waived his PI in the air. "Check." Ettwanae didn't bother raising hers.
"LinCreds card."
Warren flashed what was essentially the prepaid credit card Ztar had arranged for him weeks earlier. "Check." As wealthy as Warren was, even he was impressed with the emperor's generosity.
"Ettwanae, your cloak."
"Oh, right." She activated the super-advanced, implanted cloaking system by pressing two fingers and a thumb in the correct sequence to nearly invisible marks on her chest. With a blink of a shimmer, she appeared wingless and Sat'reyan.
As a precaution, Warren had also chosen to go wingless and had donned his harness.
All in hand, the trio was ready to head to the supply house. Their transport vehicle idled outside Volu's bay door, though to a passerby and scanners, it would appear the ASurT was sitting in the middle of an empty field.
"Remember, what's on the list and only what's on the list."
"As long as my odent berries are on it," the teen warned teasingly.
Gatebi sighed. "Yes, Flint, your addiction is on the list."
"And our zante." Ettwanae piped in, though her tone far from lighthearted. Some of the irritability had lifted over the preceding half hour, but not entirely. And she was definitely giving Warren the cold shoulder having uttered not one word to him since issuing the get moving order.
Strained silence dominated the ride to the warehouse, with Warren and Flint exchanging meaning-filled glances and not daring to speak. Mercifully, the trip took less than five minutes.
Warren wisely relinquished all authority without protest to Ettwanae when it became apparent she was taking charge of the supply mission. He'd not be the cause of a public quarrel.
She led them up to the lone attendant at the front desk, briefly discussed their needs and waited as he open an order for them. Within moments, the house's stock list was downloaded to their PIs. He explained they could either select products via PI or venture through the warehouse to inspect samples of the goods before making their choice.
"I prefer to see what I'm buying," Ettwanae said as if anything otherwise was incomprehensible.
Acknowledging the preference, the attendant downloaded a warehouse layout map and pointed them in the right direction.
As Ettwanae marched ahead, Warren leaned toward Flint and chuckled. "Apparently, the shopping gene was engineered into Eshaaru, as well!" he joked quietly.
His eyes grew wide when Ettwanae's now dark-haired head snapped around. Had she overheard?
"No dawdling! We've got a lot to get done."
Dutifully, they followed her into the large warehouse, though it was vastly smaller than the huge resupply house on Thael. Being at the edge of Turzent space, with a small resident population and little in the way of interstellar traffic, Ayni didn't require a massive facility.
Pulling up short without warning just before the display stacks, Flint and Warren nearly ran into her back. Ettwanae turned sharply.
"Flint, you order fresh produce, including your precious odent berries, but don't you dare buy a whole cargo crate," she warned with a stern frown. "Warren and I will handle the non-food items. We'll regroup and take care of the dry goods and beverages last. If either of you aren't sure of the right item, ask. Questions?" It wasn't a question – it was a declaration that they had better understand their orders the first time. The two men shook their heads vigorously. "Good. Let's get started. The sooner we're underway again, the better."
"Yes, ma'am!" Flint quipped. Warren thought it reckless, but all Ettwanae did was give the kid a suspicious eye. Either the sarcasm was lost to her or she chose to ignore it. Warren assumed the former.
"First on my list are medical supplies. Volu gave very clear instructions on the type of bio monitor," she said in Flint's direction, while ignoring Warren's presence.
"O-okay," Flint respond tentatively, catching Warren's eye with a 'good luck' wink. Then with a quick check of the layout on his PI, the teen was off in the direction of fresh food samples.
Warren flinched. He'd forgotten about the little device Volu demanded he wear if allowed to stay. Without waiting for him, Ettwanae took off for the med supplies stacks. Despite her shorter legs, Warren had to nearly trot to keep up with her. It was almost as if she were trying to leave him behind.
With Flint gone, it was time to attempt to mend bridges. Risky, dangerous, maybe even foolhardy, but he had to try.
"Ettwanae, please wait up." She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Please. Why are you upset with me?" Still no reaction. 'God, she's being difficult!' He trotted several steps to get along side. "Are you angry because I've been spending a lot of time with Flint?"
A huff. That was it. 'Something, at least.' In three long strides and a 180, he was walking backwards facing her, forcing her to slow down to avoid running him over, though she looked like that's what she wanted to do.
Next was a deep, exasperated sigh. She stopped abruptly, crossed her arms, and glared with dark, cloak-produced eyes. He nearly stumbled trying to halt backward momentum. "If that's it, I'm sorry. It's just being near you is difficult and the game is a good distraction…and there's not much else to do onboard…" he was running out of excuses. She was still glowering. "The game's more addicting than I realized? I'm an idiot and should have divided my time better? Okay, more than an idiot – an insensitive clod?" The coldness in her face eased ever so slightly. Was he making progress?
###
Elsewhere, a small black ship settled on the ground just outside the city, planetary security systems unaware of its presence. A section of hull melted away to form an exit.
The ASurT summoned to the location minutes earlier awaited. A lone, cloaked figure emerged from the ship and immediately stepped inside. The two-person vehicle quickly departed for the programmed destination.
###
"Okay, my inner child took over, and I had to beat Flint – I couldn't let it go. Immature. Obsessive. I realize all that now, but while in the midst of it?" He shrugged and gave her in best forlorn puppy-eyed look. More softening in her expression. "I didn't mean to ignore you or hurt your feelings. It wasn't until Volu said how many hours we'd spent playing that I realized how much time it consumed. Won't happen again, I promise. And if it happens again, you have my permission to knock me on the side of the head to break me out of its hypnotic hold." He offered a weak smile. "Deal?"
A long, drawn out sigh erupted and the arms dropped to her side. "Promise? I get to knock you on the head?" A twinkle formed in her eyes. That actually worried Warren a bit. Wings twitched within their confines.
"Ah, yes – promise…"
"Good!" Just that quick, she took a swing at his head that he barely dodged. If not for instincts honed over years with the X-Men, she would have nailed him good. "W-What are you doing?! I'm not playing the game right now!"
"Retroactive. Bad enough that Flint and Volu play that stupid game for hours on end, now you! Told Volu to erase it, but she won't. Damn game – pulls everyone in. It's evil."
"I get the message loud and clear. If I play again, it'll be short sessions. You have my word. Am I forgiven?"
She started toward the med samples again with a determined stride.
"Ettwanae?"
"I'm thinking!" she yelled without turning around.
"Light of my life, will you please forgive me?" he shouted to the rooftop.
"Yes! You are forgiven!" she shouted back, arms raising up high and dropping dramatically.
"Thank God!" came a small voice from the other end of the warehouse in Flint's distinctive tone.
###
The warehouse attendant looked up from his terminal at the shadowy figure entering the front office. Long cloak, hood over its head obscuring most of the face. Akda was instantly on guard. The visitor reached the desk and placed a multi-faceted black sphere on the counter. He eased a hidden-from-view hand toward the security alarm sensor.
"That will do you no good," the deep, oily-sounding voice proclaimed flatly.
Akda tensed more – how did he know? Then the warehouse attendant suddenly felt an odd sensation crawling through his head. 'What?'
It was the last self-will thought Akda had. His next moves were all directed from outside himself. From his terminal, he secured the entrance – no one would be visiting any more that day. Scheduled pick-ups and deliveries were cancelled with a vague explanation of 'technical difficulties.' Then Akda pulled a phase gun from its spot, put the business end to his head, and fired.
As the body dropped to the ground, the hooded telepath smiled. The attendant's mind was weak – no natural mental shields at all. Too easy. No fun. He thought back to the best challenge he'd had in recent memory – the maintenance technician on Sat'rey he programmed to sabotage the shuttle of imperial attendant Sukja. She had a strong mind and natural defenses, but in the end, he won as he knew he would. It was just that the battle for control had been stimulating when most minds were pathetically feeble.
It had been almost too convenient that the terrorist group had wanted to intimidate the Emperor into abandoning his governmental transition by kidnapping the two people closest to him – his attendant and his companion. The attendant was meaningless – it was the imperial companion the orders said to eliminate. If successful, he'd add another Esha'Aru kill to his list.
They hadn't counted on the Emperor and his security forces finding the terrorists so quickly. How that had happened wasn't known. Should not have been possible. So instead of Drex's gang eventually killing Archangel as he'd programmed them to do, the hostages were rescued. Shaking off recollections, he refocused on his assignment.
Esha'Aru's were untouchable mentally by design, but physically, they were vulnerable – especially when separated. He would need to ensure his prey did not connect physically. The images from Neu were sobering and clear – the two Esha'Aru were a potent pairing. Before that, his people believed Archangel and the female were incompatible. Why else would they not be soulbound as the scanners in the Tchut shop had clearly showed was the case? Neu reconfirmed – the couple was not bound. Yet they conjured Source as powerfully as a bound pair…more powerfully than his people had seen in a very long time. Puzzling. Perhaps his superiors did not understand the species as well as they thought.
Recent intel said the couple were a key to the Shozen's desperate plans. He had been selected to personally destroy the enemy's chosen pair, whom the Shozen were foolishly allowing to roam free. A misjudgment that would be fatal to the two winged beings wandering through the warehouse.
Keeping the pair from touching wouldn't stop him from letting one witness the other's death. The day had potential for being a good one.
###
The correct bio monitor proved to be a quick find. With its addition to their order, Ettwanae and Warren headed toward the galley equipment section.
"I want to go to the liquor section. The stock list says they have Dison, but I want to see if it's the good stuff."
Ettwanae nodded her agreement, and Warren headed off.
Gazing down the shelving filled with a wide variety of galley equipment display pieces, she began window shopping, checking out all sorts of gadgets and culinary accessories. The luxury of having credits was still hard to get use to, and she found it difficult to buy anything that wasn't a necessity.
Ettwanae was engrossed in an assortment of hot beverage makers when she heard odd sounds coming from somewhere in the warehouse – likely some equipment working, she assumed. Then more strange noises echoed through the stacks, almost like those of a struggle.
"Warren?" A chill ran down her spine. While invisible within her cloak, she knew her wing tips quivered. Something didn't feel right…
"Warren?" she called urgently, her voice echoing off the hard surroundings.
She reached out mentally. / Volu? /
Nothing. Her heart jump into her throat. The warehouse was suddenly and powerfully shielded! Why? Something hit the floor, clanging loudly.
"Warren!"
A barely audible moan crept through the stacks. Panic erupted. Running to the end, she skidded around the corner to the next aisle. Nothing. To the next and then the next, where her heart stopped. Warren was lying face down, shirt back ripped open, harness strewn to one side, and wings spread wide on the floor with a bright red stain marring one limb's whiteness.
"Goddess!"
As she sprinted toward him, Warren raised his head with obvious effort. The blue eyes grew suddenly wide. "Behind you!"
Ettwanae spun around as an incredibly fast-moving figure swooped upon her – it was all black and tan swirls with inky eyes and a dark wrap. That was all her brain had time to register as iron-gripped hands caught her arms.
"No!" she yelled as she fought to free herself from its clutches, but the figure was amazingly strong. Spinning her around, four steely arms pinned her against a rock-solid body and she was hopelessly, helplessly ensnared.
"Struggling gains you nothing," her attacker's slick voice mocked. "It will be over quickly, but sadly for you, not painlessly."
"Et-twa-nae." Warren's weak voice called out and she heard sounds of rustling wings. A glance over her shoulder confirmed his attempt to rise, but he was having immense difficulty.
"Warren!" she screamed amidst desperate struggles. A powerful hand clamped over her mouth and nose.
Panic ratcheted up as she realized she couldn't breath. Suddenly, pain – everywhere, deep, to her core…unlike any she'd felt since...
'Goddess!' Devouring agony overrode all thinking as she screamed into the hand pressed tightly over her face.
"Ettwanae!"
Warren's frail and desperate cry spurred her struggles, but they were in vain. Blackness began seeping in around the edges as she thrashed and fought for air and against searing pain.
###
Flint wanted odent berries. They were a popular fruit – so popular in fact, that on one ag world, half a continent was devoted to growing them for a craving populace. The Ayni supply house listed the sweet/tart berries, but only the dried variety. Somewhat disappointing that they had no fresh ones, but considering where Ayni was, Flint was not surprised.
Stack 14, Level 3, Position 83. His PI guided him to the exact spot to inspect the goods. Flint liked what he saw – sealed, clear packaging that wasn't so large as to be considered bulk packaging, but not too small either. He'd take several. Waving the device in front of the electronic ID tag, he quickly entered his desired quantity and the odent berries, 10 bags worth, would be added to their transport pod by the supply house's robotic picker once they paid up.
Ettwanae's voice rang out Warren's name. 'Must of gotten separated,' he mused. A few moments later, more yelling echoed through the building. Flint's chest clenched – he didn't like the alarmed tone. When "Goddess!" rang through the air, there was no doubt of trouble. 'Damn!'
Taking off at a run for the end of the stack row, Flint had no idea which way to go and slid to a stop. Were they still in medical? Then Ettwanae's screamed Warren's name and panic took hold. 'Shit!'
The echoic warehouse made it impossible to determine direction. Racing down the main aisle, Flint turned his head back and forth to look down the rows. Then he saw them. Warren was struggling to get to his feet and obviously injured, and someone had the Ettwanae from behind, hand over her face while three other arms held her tight to its body, her arms pinned to the side and flailing legs connecting only with air.
'Fuck!'
###
Volu jerked mentally in realization that the telepathic connection to her Other had abruptly severed and her sensors blocked with completeness. Pushing her abilities to their limits gained nothing. With heart-stopping dread, she recognized the feel of the shielding.
"Gatebi!"
In the storeroom where she was reorganizing what little supplies they had left before new stock arrived, the Alcab jumped. Her heart pounded instantly – Volu's tone said it all.
"What's happened? What's wrong?"
"Dark Ones are at the supply house!" the living ship nearly screamed as she shot into the air.
###
'Do something, Reilly!' he yelled at himself as he watched the struggle. 'Okay, okay – focus.' Concentrating on the dark robe, he imagined fire licking up the cloth. Nearly instantly, a corner of the robe burst into flames. 'Yes!'
Elation was followed immediately by, 'Oh my god!' as fear that Ettwanae's precious wings would be set on fire. Burned skin – that'd heal. Burned feathers – not so much. Just as soon as dread gripped him, one of the four arms literally tore the robe from its body and the burning cloth fell to the floor.
Several things happened simultaneously over the next seconds. Flint took off at a full run toward the assailant. Through pain and waning strength, Ettwanae realized one arm was free and she fought with renewed desperation for air, pulling with all her remaining Eshaaru strength at the hand over her face. Warren got wobbly to his feet. An alarm began to wail as sensors detected the fire. Thick, misty fog began spraying out from the ceiling-mounted firefighting equipment.
###
Struggling against weakness that went beyond the physical, Warren finally found enough strength to get unsteadily to his feet behind the creature holding Ettwanae as it threw off the garment that fire was quickly consuming. 'Flint! Where?' A quick look down the aisle revealed the teen running their way. Alarms began screeching with ear-splitting intensity.
Disrobed, their attacker was fully revealed – black skin with swirls of tan covered a body that looked to be a cross between a Dark One and another unknown species. Four arms with elongated hands and fingers, a misshapen torso, and two multi-jointed legs. The energy-sapping attack had literally come out of nowhere. Where there more Dark Ones lurking?
Warren staggered toward the shelving and grabbed the nearest heavy-looking object. He'd need something other than his own MIA strength. What the item was, he hadn't a clue, but it was cylindrical and solid with some heft.
"Portable Liquid Cooling Pod – 1.785 credits per quantity one," the warehouse AI announced helpfully as Warren swung his makeshift club while white fog descended.
###
Flint had nearly reached the action when Warren slammed something into the side of the attacker's head from behind. The ugly bastard staggered to one side, its four scrawny arms releasing its victim. Ettwanae collapsed to the floor unmoving.
"Warren, get Twae! I'll handle Hunchback!"
As fire-choking vapors blanketed the area, it became an effort to breath, but that didn't slow down Flint. Using momentum, he crashed his body into the alien, driving it into the stacks and away from the fallen Ettwanae. Items fell from the stack, clattering on the hard floor.
"Thermal Controlled Beverage Glass, Large – 0.357 credits per quantity four."
"Thermal Controlled Beverage Glass, Small – 0.25 credits per quantity four."
Flint struggled to punch anything he could connect with in their tangle of too many arms and legs while trying to extricate himself from one of the ugliest bastards he'd ever laid eyes on.
"Please return sample Portable Liquids Cooling Pod to Slot 1359. Thank you for your cooperation," the warehouse AI politely requested.
Then with an ease that told Flint the black and tan attacker was far stronger than appearances would have you believe, it grabbed Flint by the shirt collar, rose, and promptly threw him yards down the aisle to crash into the oh-so organized merchandise sample racks. Pain, shock, and blackness collided as he dropped to the hard floor, galleyware tumbling to the ground with him.
"Hermetic Food Storage Container, Small – 0.285 credits per quantity four. Hermetic Food Storage Container, Medium – 0.300 credits per quantity four. Vented Food Storage Container, Medium – 0.250 credits per quantity two."
###
Having pulled Ettwanae down the aisle several yards, Warren looked at her paled Sat'reyan face. "Ettwanae, can you connect with Volu?" He coughed as lungs burned from fire-fighting chemicals.
She shook her head, still breathing hard and shaking violently. "No," she struggled to get the words out. "Can't…reach her!"
Warren looked up at the sound of objects hitting the floor, blinking to see through the thick fog. 'Flint!' The teenager was slumped on the floor.
"Objects removed for examination must be returned to their appropriate display slot promptly. Please return all merchandise immediately," the AI chastised in warning tones above the wailing siren.
Warren scanned the goods around him for another suitable weapon as coal black eyes locked onto him and Ettwanae. Spying kitchen utensils with nice sharp points, Warren grabbed what looked like a meat cleaver just as the alien moved with lightening speed in their direction. He barely had time to hurl it like a throwing ax. To his amazement, the being knocked the knife away just before it would have embedded into the bare chest. 'Damn!'
He leapt into the air, ignoring instant pain in one wing, and barely pulled up his ankles before long, boney fingers would have snagged them. Beating wings swirled the white mist into vortexes. While he had escaped, Ettwanae was now within easy reach of the enemy, a situation that was immediately apparent to the alien.
Just as several arms reached down for its quarry, Warren dove and did likewise, grabbing a scrawny arm. Two powerful downbeats, they were above the high stacks. Snarls came from the dangling creature. A somewhat Humanoid face turned up and smiled a classic evil grin at Warren, sending shivers down his spine.
"Appropriate that you will be first." Three steely hands stretched up to clamp around Warren's forearm, followed immediately by that now familiar soul-searing pain, while the fire siren died.
###
Volu was at the supply house in less than one minute. In the distance, she could see emergency vehicles heading their direction. Her external audio array picked up the alarm sounding from the warehouse. What was happening inside? Panic intensified.
###
Flint struggled through semi-consciousness and a throbbing head. Opening resistant eyes, he glanced around for their assailant. "Where are you, motherfucker?!"
Ettwanae was on the floor looking up and struggling to get to her feet. Her weaken state was apparent as she fell back against a rack and sank to the floor.
"Th-there!" she shouted down the aisle and pointed skyward. Flint looked up at the precise moment a scream sliced the air – a distinctly Human male scream.
"Warren!" Ettwanae's cry was punctuated by her attempt to rise, but she was too weak and quickly fell back. Her eyes shot desperately to Flint.
"Do something – it's killing him!"
Flint's mind raced. His fire abilities were worthless – the alien wore no clothes and even if it did, he hung in mid-air where Flint's abilities couldn't connect. His mind shot back to the first training session with Warren. The kick-ass X-Man told him there would be circumstances like this – times when his abilities were useless. How had the man known? Flint kicked himself for having been so cocky in thinking there'd always be something he could do with his talent.
He scanned desperately for something to throw – lots of kitchenware, but not much that'd be effective against the powerful alien. Another scream tore through the air, echoing through the warehouse. Warren's wing beats were erratic and the pair was sinking quickly. 'Of course!' Flint smacked himself in the head. They couldn't stay airborne if Warren wasn't strong enough to fly. Once they landed, he could do something.
Suddenly, the warehouse began vibrating. Creaking, snapping, and inhuman moaning sounds filled the building. 'What the hell?!'
###
Volu lashed out with shields, morphing its shape to grab the roof, and began elevating. She would not risk blindly using weapons to slice off the roof for fear of killing anyone airborne within. Simultaneously, she dropped her cloak to be visible to those inside she prayed were still alive.
###
Pain was all that registered as lifeforce drained away. When he and the alien crashed into the top of a stack, he was barely aware. Lightening fast, the half Dark One, half something else flipped their positions and pinned Warren. The head came down near Warren's.
A pleased-sounding, "All I need do is kill one of you and a piece of hope dies," slipped into his ear.
The pain was beyond what Warren experienced on Neu. He screamed without voice; then the world went black.
"Return all merchandise to the racks or security will be summoned. This is your final warning," the computer voice issued sternly.
###
Ettwanae's heart nearly stopped as Warren and what had to be a different kind of Dark One crashed into the stack. But the warehouse was shaking violently just as the building had on Hydeera. New alarms began wailing and the building's AI yelled its warning – "Intrusion alert! Intrusion alert!"
/ Volu! / She screamed with her mind. Nothing.
Suddenly, the ceiling was separating from the walls and lifting up. Sections of wall too stubborn to let go snapped away at their base or other weak points. Once freed, the roof sailed off to land in a nearby open area. Ayni's brilliant sunlight temporarily blinded. Shading her eyes, Ettwanae squinted at the blessed sight of Volu's underbelly.
/ Volu! / she called again telepathically. Still nothing. The psy-damps were still operational. "Volu – save Warren!" she shouted aloud and pointed toward his location. The gesture was unnecessary, but you do things like that when panicked. And Ettwanae was panicked – was Warren already dead?
She caught sight of Flint climbing the rack to reach Warren. Her strength was returning ever more quickly, she crouched and then leapt into the air toward her soulbound.
"Ettwanae, stay clear!" Volu's voice boomed through what was left of the warehouse. A golden beam of energy shot from the Eshaar'ne into the being atop a deathly still Warren. What happened next made her heart clench.
###
What Flint saw as he reached the top of the stack stopped him stock-still. Volu's energy beam was hitting the alien square, but nothing was happening. It was as if the energy simply disappeared into the creature.
"What the fuck?!"
The coal-black eyes slid over to meet Flint's wide, green orbs. "Too late," it announced and laughed with a hair-raising cackle.
###
My heartfelt thanks for the reviews I've received. Every word of feedback is precious to me, so if you can spare even a couple, I would love to read them.
Next time, is it too late? Warren seems to attract deadly attention, doesn't he?