Seven
The forest was almost too quiet. When the only sounds you could hear were your own footsteps, it was hard not to get wrapped up in the uneasiness that often followed. Luar'ka tried to keep her mind off of it as she struggled to match his pace. He wasn't walking very fast, but it was just the mere fact of how much taller he was than her that made it hard for her to keep up. And once, he must have paused to listen for a noise he heard, causing Luar'ka to walk into him. He'd growled at her in annoyance, but hadn't said a word otherwise.
He'd said his name was...Kar'kha? She thought that's what she'd heard. It was still hard to discern what he said through the bizarre clicks he made when he spoke. She wanted to ask where they were going. But she was afraid to speak to him. There was always the possibility he'd change his mind at the slightest word she said and decide to add her to his collection of skulls. She swallowed dryly and bit her tongue, continuing to follow him.
Meanwhile, he kept track of her light footsteps behind him, making sure she was still there. And all the while, he started to wonder if this was a good idea. After all, it wasn't as if she were typical prey, and the code of honor forbade him killing her anyway. But he knew that some Yautja didn't always follow the code as diligently as the majority did. He shrugged mentally as he remembered that many Badbloods often originated from such individuals. His sire served as an arbitrator and often hunted down such dishonorable members of the clan. Kar'kha couldn't say he wasn't familiar with the concept.
He shook his head with a grumble, wondering how he'd gotten his thoughts so side-tracked. He glanced back at the young female still following him. He could tell from her scent that she was dangerously weak. A youngling her age probably wouldn't have lasted too much longer without guidance, especially with so many kiande amedha infesting this region.
Still, he did feel slight trepidation at the thought of bringing her back. No doubt there would be problems. Apprentices weren't unheard of, but they were not too common. They also were not usually so young. Fortunately, he had recorded her successful attack on the hard meat that had cornered her. He could use that image as proof if questioned. She had potential and since he couldn't kill her anyway, he might as well see what she could do with such potential.
Looking up, he covertly changed the vision setting in his mask back to default; thermal readings. Glancing behind him, he noticed again that her body temperature was abnormally low. He wondered if the female's low temperature had anything to do with her current weakened state.
He faced forward again, steadily making his way back to his ship. During his absence from the young female, he'd done some more thorough investigating of the immediate area. Despite scans and the killing of three more drones, he couldn't find evidence of a Queen anywhere. He hadn't even seen any of the tou'amedhas at all. Something wasn't adding up. But his deadline was almost up and the Clan Leaders were going to want an update soon.
He paused at the edge of the treeline, glancing down at the young female who stopped beside him, having learned from the last time.
He could see one of his comrades skulking about in the shadows, keeping an eye out for any intruders. He didn't have the cloak up, which surprised Kar'kha, until he remembered that Thwei'ja had had his comp damaged during the last hunt they'd been on. He probably still hadn't found time to fix it. Steeling himself, he pressed forward toward the distorted outline of the cloaked ship. Thwei'ja's head shot up as they approached and he let out a low rumble which quickly turned into a full on snarl at the sight of Luar'ka. He stamped forward and his head snapped in Kar'kha's direction.
Luar'ka got the distinct feeling that this comrade of Kar'kha's was a little miffed at her presence. She couldn't tell what was being said. It seemed to be a language consisting mostly of growls, clicks, and trills. The individual Kar'kha was arguing with was at least a head taller than he was and the long dark appendages attached to the back of his head were considerably longer and decorated with more intricate rings than Kar'kha's. He kept snapping his gaze to Luar'ka behind his mask, and his words were sounding more and more heated.
"Ki'cte!" he shouted suddenly. He glowered at her one final time, still unintelligible behind the mask and then whirled, stalking to the ship which dropped the cloak as he approached, "...kha'bj-te..." he snarled under his breath as he boarded the ship.
Luar'ka watched him go and then looked at Kar'kha uncertainly. He had his head bowed, his fists clenched at his sides. She backed away from him, as the tension rolling off of him in waves was almost tangible. He seemed to notice her caution and a deep rumble escaped him, followed by a huffing sigh. His stiff shoulders relaxed and he headed toward the ship, motioning her to follow him. She did so, tucking her wings behind her nervously. She squeezed her eyes shut, following him blindly up into the ship as she shut her mind away from the fact that something was about to happen.
Her clawed feet skidded a bit on the unfamiliar metallic surface. She'd never seen anything like this before. As she regained her balance, she spread her wings to station herself, scattering feathers. She sighed in irritation when she realized all this stress was causing her to molt.
She gasped sharply when Kar'kha snatched her arm and dragged her down the hallway, opening a door in the wall. He shoved her inside and stepped back. Luar'ka scrambled up to try to follow him back out, but the door slid shut with a sharp woosh. She crashed into it, clawing desperately at the slippery surface as her pulse pounded in her ears, her fear rising.
"No! No wait, please! Let me out! Let me out!" she cried. Her wings sagged behind her and she sank to the floor, digging her claws into her palms, "Please..." she whispered, even though she knew no one would hear her.
/ooo/
"You are the odd runt, Mei'hswei."
Kar'kha's hand twitched as he helped his brothers repair the transmitter. He dropped the cutting tool he was holding while he was still of a mind to as he growled irritably. The second Yautja turned to leer at him mischievously while the third remained engrossed in his task.
Growling out in his native language, Kar'kha felt compelled to defend his case, even to his brothers, "And what do you mean by that?"
"My apologies; you were the odd runt. Now, you are merely odd."
Kar'kha snarled at his brother who huffed out a cackling chuckle in return, "Just as temperamental as always, Mei'hswei. No control, none at all. The Elders let a pup like you pass your Chiva?"
The third brother looked up from his task and gave the second brother a sharp whack to the back of the head, snarling his irritation at the jeering. The second brother spread his mandibles wide in his own aggravated growl before tucking them in close to his face and standing up and moving away. Kar'kha shook his head at this display and moved to the control board, checking the computer's homing coordinates. The ship they were using was older and required more maintenance protocols to keep it running.
"Ikthya'de," he said, "Are we to return to the Jag'd'dja' atoll after this hunt, or are we returning home?"
"Jag'd'dja' atoll. We have to submit the reports immediately upon our return." the second brother grumbled, rubbing the back of his head where the third had knocked him.
"I hope you realize," the third brother clicked without looking up from the transmitter, "that someone is going to have to mention the pyode amedha now on board."
"I am well aware of that fact, Than'ja." Kar'kha quipped irritably, "I intend to once we have returned to their range."
His brother glanced at him over his shoulder, eying the younger sibling with suspicious distaste. He turned his head to Ikthya'de and tossed the tool he was using at him, ignoring the annoyed hiss from his brother as he approached Kar'kha seriously. Than'ja was actually very close in height to his younger brother, who stood just a few inches taller than him. Glaring at him speculatively, he sighed, "Why, Kar'kha? Why, after all that Thwei'ja scolded you for, why disobey him and keep that ooman on the ship? Aside from unwise, it is sheer recklessness."
"You should claim her head now before Thwei'ja throws her in the airlock." Ikthya'de piped up from the control board. A resounding bark from Than'ja shut him up. He turned back to his younger sibling, his head shaking slowly, "We heard him from in here, Kar'kha. He is not pleased."
"I could not honorably kill her, Than'ja," Kar'kha said, his voice strained, "Our computer has no information on her species. If this means she is endangered, I cannot kill her on the code of honor."
"Her species?" Than'ja repeated in bewilderment.
"She is no ooman." Kar'kha said gravely, "She calls herself 'Ah'viannnn'."
He was forced to pronounce Avian in broken ooman speech and even then, it sounded butchered. Than'ja clicked his mandibles in regard to his brother's words. He let out a rattling sigh, "Regardless of her status," he continued, "Why bring her on board?"
"Do not say you wish to apprentice her!" Ikthya'de barked with a harsh, amused laugh. However his brother's distinct silence caused his laugh to stutter and die in his throat as his eyes narrowed, finally being serious for once. He stood up at the control board and lowered his head, "Are you serious?" he mumbled.
Rather than answer, Kar'kha raised his left arm and accessed the recordings from his mask, bringing up a holographic image of the hard meat attacking the young female at the riverbed. Both of his brothers watched, dumbstruck when they saw the knife plunged into the neck of the beast, securing a temporary victory for the young female. He also showed them recordings of her movements during his brief scuffle with her in the forest.
"I cannot kill her honorably," Kar'kha said again, firmly, "I wish to see what she can do."
Ikthya'de seemed impressed with the recording, standing at the controls with his arms folded, clicking his mandibles together pensively as he stared into space. Than'ja however stood with his shoulders squared and his head somewhat low, signaling to Kar'kha that he was apprehensive.
"Thwei'ja will be a concern." he said finally, "You know how he is."
"I intend to keep her out of sight." Kar'kha said quickly.
"You cannot train a suckling, Kar'kha." Than'ja said sharply, "Let alone one of another race."
Ikthya'de huffed once and looked up, "He has a point, Mei'hswei. You yourself have only been Blooded for five seasons."
Kar'kha cast his gaze from one brother to the other, gauging their reactions. Ikthya'de was fairly laid back and he knew he could probably count on his support. Than'ja however was a bit more cautious, almost to the point of being high strung at times. But while Kar'kha respected and looked up to his older brothers, he was going to stand his ground on this one. Especially where Thwei'ja was concerned.
"Forgive me," he said sternly, "But I have made my choice."
"Stubborn Youngblood..." Than'ja muttered under his breath.
"Shock." Ikthya'de quipped sarcastically, earning him a sidelong glare from both brothers. Than'ja sighed, stretching his mandibles and then tucking them back in tightly, "So be it, Mei'hswei. Be warned; Thwei'ja's anger is yours to manage."
With those ominous parting words, Than'ja turned back to the controls, snatching the tools back from Ikthya'de as he resumed his work. Ikthya'de sulked for just a moment before straightening up, "I am going to the armory to start repairs." he announced. Than'ja grunted in reply, but didn't look up.
Ikthya'de grasped Kar'kha's shoulder as he passed and shook him roughly, a wide, amused grin spreading his mandibles out as he cackled, "Enjoy your new pet, Mei'hswei." he teased him. He headed off down the corridor. Kar'kha was left standing in the cockpit watching his brother silently working on the controls. The way he held himself suggested to Kar'kha that he didn't wish to be bothered right then with more petty matters. Kar'kha huffed silently and turned, moving out of the room. The corridors were dark, as the engines currently weren't running and the lights were powered down to save energy. Again, aged ship.
He wasn't sure where Thwei'ja had gone. He assumed their leader had gone hunting as a way to vent his anger toward his younger subordinate. Kar'kha didn't blame him, honestly. He was sure he'd be in the same state of mind if crossed so blatantly. But he was committed now and something in him balked at the thought of giving up once he'd started something. He knew he could probably rely on Ikthya'de's assistance should something go wrong. Than'ja might possibly take his side for a short while. At least he hoped so. The last thing he wanted was for this whole event to create a rift between them. His sire's bloodline had had more than its fair share of bad luck in recent centuries. Of the eighteen siblings Kar'kha and his brothers had known, all but five had perished. The other two remaining blood relations were both female and lived separately from the males, usually refraining from contacting their brothers. Kar'kha had only ever met his eldest sister one time. He still carried the scar to this day. Ikthya'de and Than'ja, a pair of extremely unusual twin Yautja, were the only brothers Kar'kha had left that he was close to or knew of. Despite their near constant bickering, the two were very close and worked uncommonly well together in tandem hunts. Most Yautja hunted alone and rarely relied on any sort of team formation, even when hunting with other members. Ikthya'de and Than'ja positively thrived on strategic tandem hunts, often bringing down prey far too large for any single hunter to tackle. Kar'kha had heard their sire once theorize that the two of them had the potential to become Pack Leaders one day.
However, despite their prowess, it was quite obvious to all who knew the brothers that neither one wished to stay as hunters. Despite having become Blooded Warriors in superb fashion and each possessing skills that had Youngbloods looking on in envy, Than'ja's passion in life was stationed in the medical bay while Ikthya'de had made up his mind to become a metal worker. Both were valuable and highly necessary skills in the Clan, as of course not every Yautja could be a full-time hunter, but it was no small disappointment to their sire. Hence, the pressure to succeed was taken from the brothers for the most part and placed on Kar'kha's shoulders. And he knew that unless he had his brothers' support in this venture, he was going to catch the wrath of the Paya from his sire over his choice to take an apprentice. The practice, while rare, was wholly legitimate. In fact, the last time he'd visited the homeworld, an ooman apprentice had been taken by one of the Elders. If another creature of sentience impressed a Yautja enough, the possibility for apprenticeship was always available. Again though, it was a rare occurrence, as, with scarce exceptions, the Yautja kept to themselves as a means to preserve the secrets of their technology.
Kar'kha was taking an enormous risk with Luar'ka.
He paused outside the storeroom he'd shoved her into. He listened intently, but he couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Frowning, he pressed the button on the wall outside and the door slid open softly. He stepped into the room and looked around. He'd replaced his mask to its fixture in his quarters alongside his other armor and his various weapons and trophies. He still wore the netting, loincloth and comp still attached to his wrist, but he wasn't able to scan the room for her faint heat signature. He clicked his mandibles a few times, scanning the room filled with shelves storing broken or unused equipment. Letting out a series of soft rumbles, he entered the room and shut the door, lest she sneak out while his back was turned. He could sense heavy tension in the room, even from a youngling such as the female. On reflex, the rumbling in his chest turned into a soft purr to calm her, wherever she was in the room. It was a natural reaction for male Yautja when dealing with tension or stress in females. Though young, he figured it would have a similar effect on her. Although, to be fair, he'd never once felt the need to use such an ability, so he honestly wasn't sure how calming the sound actually was coming from him.
"That's a nice sound..."
His purr stuttered and ended in a snarl as he shot around, his gaze flying to the ceiling as his eyes flamed angrily at being startled. He took a step back, somewhat baffled. Luar'ka was hanging by her claws from the pipes and domed framework running along the curved length of the ceiling, her wings tucked tight against her back. Watching him from her upside-down stance, she smiled somewhat sadly and forcefully, "Hi." she mumbled. She crept slowly along the pipes toward him, still watching him upside down. She released the pipe with her right hand, hanging down as she left go with her right foot, preparing to drop down to the floor. He stepped back to give her room to experiment, watching as she hung there a moment, readying herself to twist her body as soon as she let go. She released the pipes and successfully twisted in midair. However, her landing was less than stellar and she flopped down hard on her side.
"Oww..." she groaned, sitting up, "Agh..."
Kar'kha chuckled in that gravelly voice of his, making her glare up at him angrily. He watched as her eyes widened in alarm and remembered that this was the first time she was seeing him without his mask. He faced her head on, flaring his mandibles once and then tucking them back in again. He crouched in front of her, staring her down and daring her to be afraid of him. The few oomans he'd interacted with had withdrawn in terror at his uncovered face, even more terrified than they'd been while he was merely hunting them. He wondered how the young female would react.
Luar'ka shivered a bit at the sight of Kar'kha's face. Four mandibles tipped with sharp tusks stretched wide to reveal rows of sharp teeth inside the inner mouth. She watched as he tucked them back down, working them back into a comfortable place before settling completely. To be perfectly honest, it reminded her of how she flexed and arranged her own wings. His eyes were somewhat sunken into his skull beneath his wide crown and in the low light, she could see he was a light golden reddish color. Even crouched low like he was, he was huge compared to her. And he wasn't even as big as the one he'd been arguing with when they arrived.
A low rumble reverberated from deep in his chest and he said something to her in his native language, interrupted every few seconds by clicks and growls. His speech was certainly much more fluid in his native tongue than in her language. But she couldn't understand a word of it. She looked up at him, her face riddled with apologetic confusion as she shook her head. He blinked, his eyes narrowed. He raised his left arm and typed something into the comp at his wrist. She watched him do this, fascinated as a series of those strange letters played across the screen. A jet of light shot out of it and formed an image of a sphere in front of her. It was filled with clouds of small points in varying dark colors. She watched as the image zoomed suddenly to a certain point in the sphere. He raised his other hand and pointed to a tiny blue dot. Meeting her gaze, he then tapped his claw on the floor a few times. When she didn't understand, he pointed to the dot again and then repeated the action. He could see the gears in her mind working feverishly as she suddenly lit up, "Earth!" she exclaimed. He nodded, ignoring the slight rise of pride he felt at how quickly she was able to catch on. He typed something else into the computer and she watched as the image changed, the blue dot vanishing as the sphere rotated on its axis, bringing another colored dot, this time bright green, into view. He pointed to that dot and this time, lightly jabbed the air in an upward direction. Luar'ka frowned, studying the image and then raising her eyes to his questioningly, "We're...we're leaving...Earth?" she said softly. He nodded once, confirming. Her eyes grew wide for a moment and she drew a breath, "But...but how? How is that even possible? Where are we going?" she exclaimed, her fear spiking. However, before it could turn into full on terror, he started purring on reflex. The sound had an immediate effect and she folded her legs beneath her, curling in on herself as she tried to calm her mind. He gave her several minutes, waiting until he judged her calmer before saying anything else.
"Okay. Where are we going?" she asked, her voice low.
"Illmianyar." he answered. "TttaKe. Ssssevennn. rrrrotttassshuunssss."
"'Take seven rotations'?" she repeated, one brow raising in confusion, "Do you mean it'll...take seven days to get there?"
"Sei-i." he trilled, glad to have gotten her back on the same wavelength as him.
"Oh..."
Beneath them, a fierce roaring suddenly echoed through the ship. Luar'ka stiffened, her head twisting this way and that as she traced the source of the noise. Looking to Kar'kha in alarm, she was amazed to see he was still crouching before her, perfectly calm as he watched her expectantly. His expression was unreadable. The whole ship started to shake. Kar'kha stood up and moved to the door without a word. Luar'ka leaped to her feet and tried to follow him, but he shut the door before she could reach it. She crashed against it, pounding her fists again and again on the metal surface, "Kar'kha! What's going on?! PLEASE! Tell me!" she screamed. Whirling in terror, she saw that the room she was in had a row of windows on the opposite wall. She ran over to them and looked out. Her eyes bugged in her head as she saw that they were currently rising high above the mountains. She looked to the west and her heart climbed into her throat as she recognized the great sandstone spire far in the distance, a landmark her kind used to navigate the desert.
She was looking at her homeland.
"No..." she whispered, placing her hand against the glass, "This...this wasn't what I wanted...was it? Mother..."
They were rising higher and higher and for the first time, Luar'ka was able to see it as the gods had always intended her to; "Mother..."
Her claws raked the glass and she barely noticed the tears streaming down her face as the spire vanished from even her powerful sight, "Rail..."
The land below became a blend of browns, greens, and blue. She could see the ocean now as the clouds began to drift into her line of sight. Her nails against the glass made a sharp squealing noise that made her flinch, but she ground her teeth, ignoring it, "...Peregrine..."
The clouds obscured her vision, and they rose higher and higher, going faster and faster. All around outside the window, she saw clouds, rising through them and eventually clearing them to reveal a stark, deep blue sky filled with the purest sunlight Luar'ka had ever seen. But the tears watering her vision made it hard to see it directly. Her claws dug into her palms, causing blood to flow freely. Outside, the ship began to rattle and shake fiercely, as fire appeared to engulf it as it continued to rise. Luar'ka had no way of understanding that they were breaking through the Earth's atmosphere. She leaned against the glass, watching where her homeland could once be seen, even as the ship finally rocketed out the atmosphere and into the first reaches of space. Luar'ka could see the planet in all its heavenly glory, its slow rotation already visible as the ship seemed to become weightless in the vast nothingness of space. To Luar'ka's untrained eye, they had entered a state of permanent night and she could see stars in all directions. But her eyes remained focused on N'-ithya, even as it began to grow further and further away at incredible speeds. Tears fell from her eyes onto her arms and her tunic, but she paid them no mind, silently crying and quietly mourning the loss of her home. Within seconds, the N'-ithya could be held in her arms. Within minutes, in the palm of her hands. By the time a half hour had gone by, it was the size of a pebble. And still Luar'ka continued to watch it, mesmerized and deeply grieved all at once. Soon, she could no longer see the Earth. It was then that she finally slipped to the floor, away from the window, burying her face in her arms. She had no tears left to cry, but her body was so weak from physical and mental stress that this seemed to be the final straw. Her body wouldn't move and her mind was in a haze of mist and recollections of fleeting memories. Dimly, she could see her hand on the floor in front of her, felt the gnawing of her empty, straining stomach struggling to keep her going. Her body felt numb, her mind following suit. She couldn't move, couldn't command her own limbs to do her bidding and heave her to her feet. She couldn't feel her feet or her wings either. He entire body was sinking into a pit of comfortable numbness.
Was this what dying felt like? Was she actually dying?
Somewhere in the distance, she heard a faint wooshing sound. But she was too weak to place it. She felt something touch her head and neck. She heard what sounded like a voice. She felt herself being moved across the floor and laid on her back. She heard another voice, this one harsher and more reprimanding. Another, somewhat calmer voice was the last thing she heard before her world blackened entirely.
/ooo/
Luar'ka awoke in intervals, her body slowly regaining feeling. Starting with her fingertips, she flexed her claws carefully, testing them. Her eyelids were heavy and her body felt weighted down. She felt warm, too. Too warm, like she had back when Maria had found her and bundled her up.
Maria. It felt like years since Luar'ka had escaped her home. She wondered how the woman was doing, or if she even survived the onslaught of those black demons. She sure hoped so. Human or not, she'd been very kind.
Luar'ka started panting, her body temperature rising. Sweat glued her down to her scalp and she was feeling very uncomfortable. She kicked her legs to stand up, only to find them entangled in something heavy. She ground her teeth, beating her wings as she struggled to free herself. Thrashing wildly, she smacked into the wall with a resounding klunk and started screeching angrily, scrambling to her feet as she finally disengaged herself from...a blanket.
"What?" she mumbled. She opened her eyes more fully and, once they focused, caught sight of a thin sheet of some sort, scratchy to the feel and made of some material she'd never seen before. It almost didn't feel like cloth, but it was surprisingly heavy. In her eyes, it almost looked like hide of some kind.
Her eyes were sensitive and stung slightly to the touch. She turned and glanced out the window. Far off stars passed by fast, too fast to focus on for long. Luar'ka wondered how long she'd been out. She stood up, moving slowly over to the door. Of course, it wouldn't open. She sighed as she confirmed she was locked in—again. Turning around, her nose twitched and her stomach growled loudly, making her double over slightly as she grit her teeth. Squinting, she looked around and realized she could smell something. She saw something sitting on the floor a few feet away from the door. Her stomach growled again when she realized that it was food. Approaching it, she noticed it was just a shapeless lump of meat from some kind of animal, cold to the smell and touch as if it had been frozen, but otherwise entirely raw. She swallowed dryly, her mouth already watering. She was instinctively wary about eating, but she was able to overcome it as she sliced a chunk off with her claws and brought it up to her mouth. The second she caught a close whiff of it, all inhibition left her and she devoured it in famished abandon. It didn't matter that it was still partially frozen or that she had no idea what animal it had come from. All her body cared about was that she, a natural born predator, was finally getting to eat something other than roughage and tubers, and something more akin to what her body had evolved to process.
In the back of her mind, she vaguely realized this was her first true meal in probably her entire life. She was born into the dying stages of the Avian community. And with her birth defect already stunting her wings' growth, she was forbidden proper nutrition from the get go. Not so, here. Though she got the sense that only Kar'kha truly seemed to at least acknowledge her well being on this ship, since it was most likely he who had left this meat here for her, she was beginning to understand that he and his kind had entirely different mindsets than any from either humans or her own people. Her birth defect meant nothing to these new creatures. She had fought for her life against the black demons and against Kar'kha. He'd taken her along with him. If she was going to get technical, he had killed her and then resurrected her in a new life. A new life where the things that held her back on N'-ithya were of no concern and her strength would apparently be tested in other ways, whatever those ways were.
This thought weighed on her mind as she finally ate her fill and then wearily groomed herself, still exhausted. It was official. She was now deep in the night sky and far, far, far away from Earth. Her family had considered her dead, otherwise they would've come looking for her long ago. Her face hardened at this thought. She gnashed her teeth together, a low rumble escaping her throat at the thought of Elder Condor. Her eyes burned holes in the side of the ship, back towards the blue planet she could no longer see.
She curled up against the wall, folding her legs beneath her and resting her head on the cold floor, staring off with smoldering eyes. Her mind played it over and over again in her head; Avocet is dead. Luar'ka lives. One day, you'll see me again. I swear it.