Eight
Than'ja sighed, rubbing his right eye carefully despite the claw. His head was starting to hurt. He wasn't sure if it was eye strain from so much close up work or that concussion he'd received the month before. He and Ikthya'de had gotten into it over something. Pauk, he couldn't even remember what they'd been arguing about now, but his younger twin could throw a serious punch.
He hissed in annoyed pain when said twin came into the room and smacked him on the back of the head. Ikthya'de winced at the sudden aggressiveness from his brother and moved toward his side of the room, "Are you feeling well, Mei'hswei?" he asked, jumping up to sit on the workbench, leaning forward to look at his brother concernedly.
"Sei'i," Than'ja said to placate him, "Just a headache. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. We took some food from storage for Kar'kha's new 'pet'."
Than'ja sighed, clicking his mandibles a few times, "Thwei'ja is not going to be happy."
"Not to worry. He is furious."
"You sound pleased." Than'ja said dryly. Truth be told, Ikthya'de did appear to be quite amused by the whole thing. But this wasn't really out of character for him. Ikthya'de was always a bit quirky. Even so, while his twin was fairly laid back and actually quite jovial, the Yautja sitting before him could be as fierce as Cetanu when he wanted to be. It was sometimes hard to believe whenever his latent quirks decided to make themselves known. It was easier for Than'ja to remember, especially looking at the spiraled, snaking scar that coiled around Ikthya'de's right arm. His eyes narrowed at the memory of accompanying their sire on a hunt for a confirmed Badblood. Ikthya'de had gotten that scar from the whip belonging to the convicted murderer, who had been aiming for Than'ja's neck.
"Mei'hswei?"
Than'ja huffed a heavy sigh and tossed his head, "Where is Kar'kha?" he asked, changing the subject. Ikthya'de regarded him with a blank stare for a moment, but shook it off at the mention of their little brother, "I put him in charge of the control board for a short time. Thwei'ja is repairing the coolant system in the sub level. Do you know what our next assignment is?"
Than'ja nodded, "We are to investigate claims of kiande amedha sightings on Illmianyar. Anything caught is to be brought back to the Jag'dja'd atoll upon death. Whole."
"Pauk." Ikthya'de snarled angrily at the command from the higher ups. No collecting trophies from these kills.
"If you cooperate, they may return the corpse to you after their investigation. Assuming you find anything." Than'ja said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. Ikthya'de sneered at him and reached over to pick up a spare comp he was fixing up. He opened his box of tools and set in to work. Than'ja watched him a moment, finding it oddly hilarious how the only thing his brother took genuinely seriously besides trophies and personal threat to himself or his brothers was his fascination with metal and machines. It could be said that he felt more comfortable hunting down mechanical bugs than he did wild creatures. Watching him work was somewhat therapeutic. Feeling relaxed, Than'ja closed his eyes for a while, dozing off while sitting up and listening to the faint clicks and pings of Ikthya'de working on the comp.
/ooo/
Kar'kha sat in the cockpit, slouched in the pilot's chair and bored out of his mind. Ikthya'de knew perfectly well that he hated handling the controls and he still dumped the responsibility on him anyway. Maybe it was his way of getting back at him for shaking up the status quo.
He sighed, running his finger across the board and bringing up the star coordinates they were currently following. It was going to be a relatively short trip, all things considered. But still, it had been a while since he'd been to Illmianyar. He'd never even met the residents there personally. The only thing he knew about them were that they were some of the extremely few allies the Yautja actually bothered to maintain peaceful relations with. Actually, now that he thought about it, he didn't even really know what they looked like.
He was busy pondering this latest assignment and its protocols when the alert went off on the screen informing him of an incoming transmission. He muted the signal quickly before opening the message. He blinked in surprise when he saw none other than his sire contacting them.
"Kar'kha," the older Yautja greeted, "I am pleased to see you at the helm for a change. Perhaps you will be a useful navigator one day after all."
Kar'kha grumbled irritably at the veiled insult. His sire wasn't well known for his tact.
"Me'vi-te," Kar'ha returned the greeting, biting back the anger as best he could, "We are currently on our route to Illmianyar as requested."
"Good."
"If I might ask, why are you contacting us, rather than the Clan Leaders?" Kar'kha asked carefully, aware that such a question could be considered out of line. His sire was an arbitrator, usually sent out to hunt down Badbloods and keep order within their boundaries. It was a bit unusual for him to be relaying messages regarding orders from the Clan Leaders. There would be no other reason for their sire to contact them. Fortunately, Me'vi-te seemed to understand the reasoning behind Kar'kha's inquiry and let the insubordination slide.
"I have been requested personally to oversee this mission," Me'vi-te said firmly, "The Elders have full confidence that the four of you are more than enough to handle this particular assignment, keeping to the assumption that nothing has gone awry on the planet. I am here to serve as backup, and nothing more. I shall be in stationary orbit around the planet until the mission's successful completion."
Translated; the Elders believed that Thwei'ja was competent to handle the mission, but that it was a bad idea to send a relatively newly Blooded Warrior on a potential silencing mission to hold the peace on an allied planet. Me'vi-te was there to take over in case his youngest living offspring fouled things up for the group. In other words, he still held very little respect in the eyes of his superiors. Kar'kha held back a snarl of distaste and looked back up at the screen.
"I have not failed yet and I have no intention of beginning now." he said as firmly as he could without crossing the line into blunt impudence. Though tactless and occasionally highly aggressive toward his descendants, Me'vi-te had become fairly protective of his offspring in recent decades, most likely due to how many he'd lost to Cetanu. This was an advantage Kar'kha knew he couldn't afford to lose while he was still so fresh to the hunt. He knew he needed to maintain respect at all costs toward his sire, at least for the moment.
Me'vi-te looked pleased with his reply, nodding his approval, "I should like nothing more than to remain idle in stationary orbit, Kar'kha. See that you hold your word."
Translation; Me'vi-te had been heavily overworked recently and desperately needed some down time. Kar'kha resisted the urge to to chuckle; even the best Yautja needed rest periods and his sire was obeying his orders while hoping to himself that he wouldn't be called upon for action.
"You will not be disappointed." he assured him.
The screen abruptly cleared, returning the star coordinates to their place. Kar'kha was left alone with his thoughts once again. He turned to glance toward the door, hoping to see one of his brothers or Thwei'ja coming to take over. Of course, no such luck. He growled to himself in irritation and leaned back, crossing his arms and gazing emptily at the screen. Why did he even have to watch the controls? The auto pilot did all that and then some! It was the one thing on the dilapidated ship that hadn't failed at least once.
He froze. He could feel the spines on his forehead beginning to rise in agitation when he caught the sound of footsteps. But they sounded too light to be any of the other Yautja on board. He held perfectly still, his eyes narrowed as he listened to them coming closer. He waited until he judged them to be directly behind him before leaping to his feet with a roar, whirling angrily. Just as he'd expected, Luar'ka jumped back in the doorway, her wings spread and her teeth bared as she hissed at him. He lashed out and snatched her arm, bodily dragging her back down the corridor while she attempted to pull out of his iron grip. Even though she was doomed to fail, he had to admit her strength was impressive. He stopped outside the storeroom and hurled her inside, stamping in after her and shutting the door. She landed easily in a crouched position; he could see she'd been practicing again. His rage only grew, not because of her ambition, but because he was oddly proud of her ambition and he did his best to quash that feeling while he focused on his anger toward her.
(("You are not to roam outside of this chamber!")) he bellowed at her.
Instantly, he realized his mistake when her brows creased in confusion, the defiant glare on her face still very much in evidence. Of course she couldn't understand him. Actually, forgetting that matter for a second, how had she even gotten out of the room in the first place?
He looked around, turning slightly as he studied the layout of the storeroom. There were no other doors, but it did have vents filtering oxygen and nitrogen to match his homeworld's atmosphere within the confines of the ship. It occurred to him vaguely that she didn't appear to have a problem acclimating to this new mixture. While it wasn't that different from the N'-ithya's atmosphere, it would still be noticeable to anyone unused to breathing it.
His eye caught something different and he approached the vent in the wall. It was just an open circular hole in the wall, small enough to filter air through, but apparently big enough to allow a small Avian female through it if she concentrated. His eyes narrowed, his mandibles working as he started growling warningly. He turned to face her, his expression forming a deep scowl. She sat on the floor, undeterred from his venomous glare as she flexed her wings in and out slowly.
If this wasn't a sign of things to come, he didn't know what was. He was starting to wonder if he'd made the right choice or not. She was far more stubborn than he'd given her credit for.
There wasn't a thing he could do to close the vent without suffocating her, so he was forced to leave it alone. But as he turned to look at it again, he glanced back at her and snarled warningly, hoping she got the message. Though he doubted it.
He stalked toward the door, his irritation so great that the spines on his forehead were standing straight up.
"I want to learn!" she exclaimed suddenly, stopping him. He turned around, looking at her with his head cocked to the side. She hunched her shoulders slightly and stared him down, "I want to learn how to speak your language," she said, "I want to know what you're telling me."
Kar'kha understood a scant amount of ooman speech himself. Clearly, she knew more than he did. She was speaking it quite well. But he was able to pick up a little of what she was saying, enough to understand what she wanted. Without a word, he turned and left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, despite how little good it would do now that she'd found an escape route.
Luar'ka watched him go with dejection, wishing he'd understood what she was talking about. She needed something to do to keep her mind busy. She was allowed out once a day to use a water station kept aboard the ship. Kar'kha was usually the one who escorted her. The rest of the time during the voyage to the new planet, she was locked in the storage room. It had been two days since they'd left the Earth. Luar'ka was still weak, but a regular food supply was slowly replenishing her strength. On top of that, consuming the raw meat she'd been given seemed to have given her double the energy she'd normally possessed. Her mind was full of clarity and was becoming quite sharp. That's how she thought to try that vent. It worked, but Kar'kha hadn't been happy. She supposed she should count her blessings that she'd only run into him and not that larger one who appeared to be his superior.
She started climbing the walls again to stave off boredom. Hanging by her claws from the steam pipes, she crossed her arms and watched the door, hoping someone would wander past. No such luck of course and she dropped down when the blood began rushing to her head. She couldn't even stare out the window for comfort, since all there was to see were stars racing past far too quickly to watch for long. Luar'ka hadn't known that the night sky extended this far past the Earth. She wished she could ask Kar'kha more about this strange place outside of the sky. But they could barely understand one another, let alone converse idly. She sighed, flexing her wings and wandering in circles.
She about jumped out of her skin when she heard the door slide open and she whirled, claws bared and ready. She relaxed when she saw it was Kar'kha standing there, watching her warily. They stared one another down for a few moments and he twitched his claws somewhat restlessly. Glancing down the corridor, he stepped inside the room and shut the door. Luar'ka noticed he was holding something in one hand as he moved closer to her and bade her sit down, jabbing one claw down toward the floor. She did as ordered, folding her legs back beneath her. He knelt in front of her and set the object on the floor between them. It looked a lot like the small device he wore on his wrist, but this one didn't appear attachable to anything. He pressed a few buttons on it and it blinked to life, flashing a multitude of red symbols on its screen. Luar'ka watched, fascinated as, with a few combinations of buttons, Kar'kha brought up several columns of different symbols that appeared to be lined up phonetically. She realized with a jolt that these were languages, including her own judging by some of the words that flew by. She even recognized the two words that made up her own name as she recalled from the drawings he'd made back on Earth.
He slid the screen across to her and then sat hunched slightly as he watched her expectantly. She hesitantly interacted with the device, amazed that as soon as she touched the screen, the image suddenly crackled and spun up into the air, floating in space above the device and continuing to scroll up and out of sight along an invisible boundary line. She hesitantly touched it and the scrolling ceased. She learned quickly that this image could be manipulated with her hands as if it were a tangible object. She forced herself to start breathing again despite her sheer amazement.
She glanced up at him. It was hard to tell with his face, but his expression appeared somewhat peeved. His mandibles worked a bit before he let out a rattling sigh. "Nnnnooo...orrrrrrre...essssCapessss." he growled, his voice gravelly and highly uncomfortable sounding. It was like every word he spoke physically hurt him.
"I was bored." she complained. He watched her a moment and then reached out to place his hand on her head. Before she could react, he suddenly dug his talons into her scalp, applying pressure. Luar'ka yelped and clawed at his hand, "Let go! Let go! Oww! Let go!" she shrieked.
He finally released her, grumbling low under his breath. Luar'ka rubbed her sore head, glowering daggers at him with her teeth bared. She hissed and then returned to the screen, "Can I keep this?" she asked.
"Sei-i," he trilled, "Nnnnoooo...Tell...Thwei'ja."
He stood up, moving toward the door without another word. He stepped out, shutting it behind him. Luar'ka rolled her eyes, "Like he even acknowledges me anyway." she grumbled, turning her gaze back to the screen. She locked her mind into the rows after rows after rows of language data on this strange device, muttering to herself as she connected words to symbols in her mind. She bit her arm and used her blood to copy symbols onto the ground, gradually learning their meanings. Learning to pronounce the words was more difficult. She got the feeling that a lot of it was composed of sounds created through those bizarre clicks and growls they made when they spoke. She supposed she had plenty of time to practice, though. It would be five more days, or rotations as they called them, before they arrived at their destination.
Luar'ka made herself comfortable in the scratchy hide she'd been given. It was going to be a long trip.
/ooo/
Two days passed. At least, she felt like it was two days. Honestly, it felt more like four or five. Luar'ka was growing increasingly restless and the rest of her wayward companions were noticing. She'd been pleasantly surprised when one of the other Yautja came into the storeroom the day before and stayed for a good length of time subtly teaching her enunciation in their language. Luar'ka hadn't met this one yet, but he called himself Ikthya'de. Next to Kar'kha, his was the only name she could even remotely pronounce yet. She was quickly learning to tell them apart by their coloring. Kar'kha was a red gold color while the older two she learned were brothers were both a dark forest green that appeared to be black in the low light. Thwei'ja, the eldest male who seemed to want little to do with her, was a deep, solid red with dark patterns along his shoulders, offsetting the off-white, speckled coloring of his inner arms and thighs, the hollow of his neck and his stomach. Somewhat unlike the other three, who had prominent scars here and there, Thwei'ja's large body was absolutely covered in scars, a testament to all of the battles he'd been through. Luar'ka made sure to give him a wide berth whenever she saw him.
Ikthya'de seemed to be pleased with the progress she was making in learning their language and she discovered to her great excitement that she too was capable of growls and clicks of her own, though they sounded different than those of the Yautja since she was using her vocal cords to make every sound instead of mandibles. But she learned to utilize her voice in such a way that she could mimic those sounds of her companions.
Ikthya'de sat in front of her and pointed to her with one finger, moving his hand in a counter clockwise circle. He was telling her to repeat the words she had just said. She did so, practicing proper pronunciation as she did. If he nodded, then she pronounced it right. If he shook his head, she was wrong and if he grumbled, she was getting closer.
After a while, Luar'ka sighed and folded her legs beneath her, her wings twitching from fatigue. She looked up at Ikthya'de, screwing her eyes shut as she tried to pronounce one of the words she'd learned; "J...Ju...Ju'dha..." she said clumsily. But as she opened her eyes and looked up at him, she was surprised to hear him emitting a deep rumble, flaring his mandibles out briefly before tucking them back against his face. He stood up and abruptly left the room, shutting the door behind him. Luar'ka was left to wonder what she had done wrong as she moved back against the wall and began picking at her wings, moping. After several quiet minutes went by, she jumped when she heard the door open again and turned to see Ikthya'de approaching her. He knelt down and handed her something. She took it and saw that it was a large cup made of some kind of smooth stone. To her amazement, it was filled with water. She looked up at him curiously, cocking her head as she'd seen them do when they were inquiring on something.
"Jud'ha, sei-i?" he said, an amused glint in his eyes. Luar'ka smiled as she realized that he had understood what she needed and complied, "Sei-i!" she exclaimed excitedly. He grumbled at her, meaning her pronunciation was still a bit off. She chuckled sheepishly and thirstily drank her water, setting the cup aside and facing him again with renewed determination.
/ooo/
"Ikthya'de, what in the name of the Paya has gotten into you?"
Kar'kha had confronted his brother while the two of them were adjusting their ship's trajectory to avoid an asteroid field en route to the planet. The older Yautja continued to input data into the computer while pointedly ignoring his brother at first. He finally responded once his delicate task had been finished, "We have asked the same of you, Mei'hswei," he said, "If you are planning to train that suckling as you intended, do you not agree that it would be more beneficial if she understood what you are telling her to begin with? Four rotations have passed and she only now knows how to ask for water."
Kar'kha bristled, realizing that his brother was indeed correct in that he should have been more prudent in teaching Luar'ka their language. However stubborn pride kept him from admitting the truth in that statement. He knew his brother knew he was right. Fortunately, Ikthya'de didn't press the matter. Instead, he changed the subject slightly, "What do you plan to do with her when we reach Illmianyar?"
"I cannot simply leave her on the ship. Thwei'ja is enough of a concern as it is." Kar'kha admitted as he pulled up the map, "She will come along on a tether."
"She is a Yau'bi, then." Ikthya'de joked and Kar'kha realized he'd walked right into that one. He sighed, "Stay in your own affairs, Ikthya'de." he snarled.
"So if the Matriarch were to find out about your little charge, you would tell her the same thing, runt?"
"Ell-osde' pauk!"
Than'ja walked in just in time to hear Kar'kha's outburst and Ikthya'de's resulting hysterics, cackling madly at the controls at how many of his brother's buttons he'd successfully pushed. Than'ja shook his head, stamped over and whacked Ikthya'de so hard he flew forward and knocked his face against the control panel. Grunting, he sat up, snarling his irritation at his brother, "What was that for!?" he roared, his mandibles flaring.
"Enough with the jokes, Ikthya'de! We have a mission to focus on!"
"Enough with the backhanded attacks, Than'ja! Challenge me foremost this time and hold your honor!" Ikthya'de snarled, jumping to his feet and shoving his brother's shoulder. Than'ja staggered back slightly, his eyes narrowing as his mandibles flared angrily. He returned the challenge, slamming his brother back so hard he fell back against the panel.
"Stop it!" Kar'kha snapped, though his brothers had already started going at it. This was neither the time nor place for a fight. Ikthya'de knocked Than'ja to the ground and Kar'kha leaped to his feet, trying to get in between them to stop the scuffle. He may have been taller than his older brothers, but he was also leaner and not as heavily built. This made him a lightweight as far as Yautja standards went. He was knocked backwards by a stray punch Than'ja threw that missed Ikthya'de, who countered with another tackle that sent them both down. Kar'kha picked himself up off the floor, feeling his skull aching like mad from the blow. His brothers' furious snarling at one another grew louder and Than'ja rolled to avoid a crushing blow Ikthya'de hurled down toward him, causing him to strike the metal floor with a resounding clamor that rang through the hull of the ship. Than'ja leaped at his brother and pummeled him backward, pinning him in place with his knee as he threw a single bash at his forehead. Ikthya'de lashed his arm up to block it, lashing out to grab Than'ja's tendrils and drag him off of him, causing the elder Yautja to shriek in fury and pain as he staggered back. However, the younger brother barely had time to get to his feet before Than'ja smashed his arm across his face, sending him sprawling, momentarily stunning him. He started growling savagely, blood dripping from a fierce open gash running down the skin of his right mandibles as he struggled to his feet.
All three brothers were startled at the sudden bellowing roar that echoed through the ship and the fight instantly calmed as their heads turned to the doorway where Thwei'ja stormed in, fists clenched and mandibles spread in rage, "THAT IS ENOUGH!" he bellowed, eying them each in turn, "S'yuitde, fighting like a litter of Yaut pups. Return to your posts, at once!"
All three did as they were told, knowing better than to argue or keep the fight going. Thwei'ja had once been Hunt Brothers with their sire many centuries before. He was probably skilled enough to take all three of them on at once and still have energy to spare.
Shaking his head, rumbling under his breath, Thwei'ja headed to the central computer, checking the coordinates, "Approximately one rotation until arrival," he announced, "I still have repairs to finish in the lower level. I trust there will be no more incidents...?" he trailed off ominously.
Kar'kha listened warily as Thwei'ja stalked out, still grumbling. That was a close one. He was sure his brothers had had it when their fight attracted Thwei'ja. He sighed, shaking his head to clear it and scattering the black tresses on his head. The few rings he possessed already clinked together at the movement.
He stood up, "I am leaving for a while," he said.
"Remember to be present for the landing." Ikthya'de reminded him quietly from his place at the sensors. Kar'kha nodded, clapped his brother on the shoulder and shook him lightly before leaving.
Ikthya'de watched him go and then returned his gaze to the screen. He worked his mandibles a few times, his eyes flicking across the screen to read the various strings of data that flashed on and off of it. He glanced warily to his brother, sitting at the computer on the other side of the cockpit, entering the orbital stationing data they'd need for when they entered the gravitational pull of the planet. Than'ja noticed him staring and glared up at him irritably, saying nothing. Ikthya'de bowed his head, turning away, "...Forgive me, Mei'hswei," he mumbled, "I let my temper get the better of me..."
Than'ja sighed heavily, reactivating the auto pilot for the remainder of the voyage, "The next time we share c'nlip and it clouds your senses, you can let me win the resulting fight." he said somewhat tartly, chuckling at his younger brother. Ikthya'de couldn't resist laughing at his brother's humor, successfully quashing any remaining anger they had for each other right then.
"I am not certain how well this deal will hold up, Mei'hswei," he said, "After all, you seem to lose your mind drinking it much more swiftly than I do."
"That only proves I am correct in my thinking." Than'ja countered.
"Ell-osde' pauk...." Ikthya'de grumbled, his mandibles tucked close in an annoyed smirk. Than'ja chuckled, "And you used to wonder where Kar'kha learned that."
"It is possible we are a poor influence on him."
"Possible? I almost feel sorry for that suckling he has dragged aboard." Than'ja said incredulously.
The tension eased, both brothers fell into a comfortable silence, the brawl from before already water under the bridge.
/ooo/
Luar'ka was still sifting through the information in the little databank when she heard the door slide open. She lifted her head, shaking her down from her eyes as she sat up straighter.
"N'jauka," she said somewhat clumsily, albeit confidently when Kar'kha appeared in the doorway. He visibly jolted to hear his own tongue coming from the young Avian female. In the span of just a few rotations, Ikthya'de had taught her quite a bit more than he'd expected.
"G'kaun-yte..." he returned the greeting, stepping inside. After the scuffle in the cockpit, he'd gone to the cold storage to fetch some meat for Luar'ka. He kept her on the same feeding schedule as he and his comrades, once every couple of days or so. So far, she seemed to be acclimating well to this routine. In any event, she appeared to be a lot healthier than she had when he'd found her. She still looked half-starved, but her body heat wasn't as low and her movements were less languid. He'd also been right to hold onto the word 'Avian' when it came to searching up data on her kind. He'd tried it again and, after spelling it wrong a few times, he had finally come across snippets of information regarding the strange winged creatures. He set the meat down in front of her and watched as she tore into it hungrily. For one thing, (this he'd found to be obvious) the Avians were registered as predators in the wild environments of their home planet and were notoriously hard to track due to their airborne lifestyles. According to the records, only a handful of Yautja had ever successfully brought down an Avian, much less even seen one up close. The computer also had records of supposed special abilities the creatures had, where some of the more advanced and aged individuals were so powerful they could even control the air around them. Their estimated flight speed and ground speed were indeterminate, but judging from how swift Luar'ka already was while in such a raw state, he had no doubt that she'd rival the kiande amedha one day in raw agility.
Luar'ka finished her meal and set about to grooming herself and her feathers. He watched her, eyes narrowed as he flexed his talons. He'd worn his wrist guards this time while approaching her. He wanted to try something. He shifted slightly, but she didn't appear to notice.
He lashed his arm out, unsheathing his wrist blades in a single fluid motion toward her throat. She hissed and shot backwards, landing on all fours several feet away from him, her face dark and her teeth bared. A low growl rumbled out of her, similar to the sounds made by his own kind. He stood up, extending the blades on his other arm as he eyed her carefully. She straightened up, her eyes widening and her wings unfolding. As he drew nearer to her, she suddenly jumped back a few more feet, landing delicately by the wall. He continued his advance on her, wanting to test just how quick she truly was. Luar'ka snapped something in her own language at him, but he wasn't able to understand her without his bio-mask and the words she said hadn't been words he knew. He continued to move closer to her, preparing to launch another false swipe.
Suddenly, she let out a grisly hiss, doubling over. It happened in the blink of an eye as she suddenly retched violently, throwing the meat she'd just eaten back up into a grisly mess on the floor as she quickly jumped up against the wall, catching the steam pipes connected to the ceiling and scrambling out of his immediate reach. Kar'kha stared at the mess and then at her in disbelief, wondering what that had been about. She continued to hang upside down, growling warningly at him while he stayed put, studying her calmly. He'd put this test in motion while her guard had been down during her feeding. He figured she'd be the most vulnerable during that time. But he hadn't counted on something like this happening. Part of his training before his chiva had also including learning about different prey his kind often tackled. One such little tidbit he'd remembered reading was on some of the flying creatures the Yautja occasionally came across. He recalled that any creature born for flight is built lightly and delicately, needing to weigh as little as possible in order to attain powered flight. Since the Avians were quite a bit larger than most flying creatures he'd encountered, he wondered if that had been a defense mechanism to lighten her body in preparation for immediate flight during an emergency. If that were indeed the case, then he made a mental note not to try this test again right after Luar'ka had eaten.
He sheathed his wrist blades and left the room without a word or a glance back. Still hanging from the ceiling, Luar'ka glared at his retreating back, snarling viciously at him as she dropped down to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her aching middle and sighed, eying the remains of her meal. Given that he'd treated this whole scenario as nothing out of the ordinary, Luar'ka started to wonder exactly what she'd gotten herself into by joining the Yautja.
She sighed and moved to the window, already feeling her stomach start to ache from being tricked into violent regurgitation. She'd seen it happen to her kind before during the couple of human ambushes she'd been a part of. Expelling the contents of the stomach dispelled extra weight and enabled take offs more easily. Rail had explained it to her long ago. Had Kar'kha known about it and wanted to test her, or was that a test and the result was just an accident?
Sitting down against the wall, gazing out the window, she groaned irritably, "He could have told me what he was trying to do." she growled to herself.
/ooo/
The com-link had finally been repaired, though quite late compared to what Thwei'ja had initially wanted. Sitting alone in the cockpit, he activated the link, waiting impatiently for a reply. The screen flashed to life and the face of a much older Yautja appeared, looking somewhat peeved at the late disturbance, "Thwei'ja," he greeted stiffly, "For what reason are you contacting me?"
"Sending an update, Elder Sechinde. We shall begin atmospheric descent on Illmianyar within ten dach'ne."
The Elder nodded, his single remaining eye blinking slowly, "Thank you for informing me. The Matriarch was becoming impatient for news."
"The nature of this mission is fully understood," Thwei'ja assured him, "Are we to make contact with the Illmorein?"
"Do not initiate contact, but do not reject it, should the situation arise." Elder Sechinde advised, "We would prefer for this mission to stay out of sight for the time being."
"Understood. We will stay out of sight. There is also one other development you should know of," Thwei'ja continued carefully, knowing it was better to bring it up now rather than later, "One of my comrades on this mission has taken an apprentice, an individual who captured his attention during our visit to N'-ithya."
The Elder raised his head, his interest fully captured, "An apprentice." he repeated, "Of what species?"
"Avian." Thwei'ja answered coolly, curious to see what the Elder's reaction would be. Clear surprise registered on the senior Yautja's face and he clicked his mandibles together a few times as he rumbled ponderously to himself, "Hmm...and here I believed they had all become extinct." he mumbled.
"So you have heard of them." Thwei'ja stated, his eyes narrowing. Elder Sechinde was one of the oldest Yautja on the clan ship, having survived for nearly eight hundred years as a splendid warrior. Now far past his prime, Elder Sechinde was no longer able to hunt, instead using his time to train selected Youngbloods he deemed worthy of passing skills onto. Thwei'ja, one of his many offspring, was one such fortunate individual. It didn't surprise the younger Yautja at all to know his sire had come across these beings at one time or another.
"I have," Sechinde answered grimly, "I currently possess a trophy from such a beast. Two exist on the clan ship. I am aware of five in total existence within our vast territory. However, any generations more recent than my own have not been fortunate enough to cross paths with them. Ooman interference was high; their numbers are now quite few, and for this, we no longer hunt them. The last sighting was many centuries ago and we presumed them dead. You say one of your comrades has such a creature on your ship?"
"Yes," Thwei'ja replied, "He claims he discovered her following her successful attack to a kiande amedha."
"Did she kill the beast?"
"No. Only injured it. Enough to discourage it."
"And the age of this apprentice?"
"Juvenile."
Sechinde frowned, his eyes narrowing and his mandibles tucking close to his face in a scowl, "Which comrade chose to make such a brash decision?"
"Kar'kha, Elder Sechinde."
His sire's expression darkened even further at the mention of such a newly Blooded Warrior taking on an apprentice. Such an undertaking was usually reserved for Clan Leaders and Elders who had the expertise to offer such talented other-species individuals. Of course, apprentices rarely lasted very long in their society. Thwei'ja knew of only two that had survived more than five seasons. Currently, both still lived on the homeworld, at least to his knowledge.
"Shall I dispose of her?" Thwei'ja ventured. Elder Sechinde shook his head with a heavy sigh of fatigue and exasperation, "H'ko..." he growled, "She is to remain alive. The responsibility of her care and training shall be limited to Kar'kha. Assuming her species may one day return from the brink, they will once again make fine prey for our clan. I am content to learn that my previous assumption of their status was proven incorrect. However, I want to see this creature for myself when you arrive back on the Jag'dja'd atoll."
Thwei'ja grumbled low, "Very well. I will inform Kar'kha."
"I have sent Me'vi-te into stationary orbit around Illmianyar for the duration of your mission. You are to contact him for backup if the need arises."
The screen went black as the transmission clicked out. Thwei'ja flexed his talons angrily at the mention of his former Hunt Brother's presence in this part of the galaxy. Though they'd once been close, Thwei'ja and Me'vi-te no longer saw eye to eye on many matters and very rarely communicated anymore. The last time they'd seen one another was during the mating ceremony when all members of the clan were required to return to the Jag'dja'd atoll for its duration. It was enough now that Thwei'ja was stationed on a scout ship with three of Me'vi-te's offspring, two of whom routinely drove him up the wall. When Ikthya'de wasn't shirking his duties in favor of tinkering with the engine, Kar'kha was rounding up random creatures out of misplaced fascination. The only remotely normal one was Than'ja, and even he had his moments where he tired of manning the controls and vanished into his medical training for hours at a time.
"Why does Me'vi-te not have any normal pups?" Thwei'ja grumbled to himself, slouching in his chair wearily. Of all the younger Yautja he could have been assigned with, why did it have to be three oddballs like them?
He stood up and turned for the door, deciding it was time for one of the others to take a shift at the controls. He froze in his tracks, eyes wide at the doorway.
That strange little female was standing there, staring warily at him, her teeth bared and her wings spread. He held her gaze for a moment, inwardly amazed that he'd never even heard her approach. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he shook off the feeling, flaring his mandibles and his back arching as he roared furiously at her. It had the desired effect and she turned tail and took off down the corridor, vanishing within seconds on those strange legs of hers. Thwei'ja balled his fists at his sides, willing the rage to leave his shaking body. He'd been ordered by Elder Sechinde to allow the youngling to live. An endangered species formerly on their list of prey, with the hope to one day place them there again, on top of being female made her relatively safe from most Yautja who followed the ethical code ingrained into their beings through years of rigorous training. Even so, she needed to learn where her place truly was in this system, and to Thwei'ja, it was as low as any insect. She had no business among his people and he was quite confident she'd eventually realize this fact on her own.
But a little encouragement never hurt.