Seventeen
The subject of the alien aboard the ship was always a hot topic amongst the Elders and the clan leader. Ki'vei-ta had heard it come up so often she was beginning to grow sick of it. However, come up often, it must, as it was a topic that did demand their attention, especially as the Avian female grew stronger and faster. Their concern was exactly how fast and how strong she would become.
"Need I remind you, we are dealing with a species we have not encountered in centuries." Me'vi-te said stiffly, eying the rest of the council narrowly, "When Sechinde brought that skull to the ship, they were already elusive. We know almost nothing about them."
"This is why we take the time to learn about our prey, Paya forbid we allow them to outwit us." a female Elder said quietly, but firmly, "And now, we are presented with such a chance."
"The Endling is of no consequence," Me'vi-te argued, speaking of Luar'ka, "She will die like any other creature and the species will die with her. There is nothing more to learn and there is nothing more to do."
"You speak as if fearful of her." Ki'vei-ta remarked curiously, sitting relaxed in her chair with her hands folded in her lap. She tilted her head up toward the arbitrator, one of two they'd summoned to the ship for this meeting. Both arbitrators had had previous contact with the ' Endling' and she was curious to get their opinions on the matter.
Me'vi-te bristled at the implication of cowardice on his part, but he held his tongue before the Matriarch. He stared hard at her, struggling to place his next words carefully. While it was true that Ki'vei-ta had occasionally favored him over the years, having been the bearer of eleven of his offspring, two of whom still lived, Me'vi-te knew there were some boundaries he dare not cross with her. She was fond of playing devil's advocate during meetings, arguing both sides so she could see both points equally. It was an effective strategy, but a frustrating one nonetheless because she was always against you at some point during the conversation.
"I fear nothing from the Endling," he said sternly, "I see no use in this wasteful energy of looking after her. She will ultimately provide nothing for the clan. We gain nothing by keeping her."
"I noted something rather peculiar shortly after we found her." Thwei'ja said from his place a few seats down from Me'vi-te. All eyes shifted to the silent Yautja as he gathered his thoughts, folding his arms on the table and staring absently at it.
"Speak, Thwei'ja." Ki'vei-ta ordered calmly.
"Last season, we received orders to go and scout Illmianyar for any sightings of kiande amedha. We found none. Not a trace of them. Kar'kha decided it would be prudent to take the young female outside with him, but later decided against it and left her while he continued by his lonesome."
He paused to make sure they were listening. He was a little too used to being spoken over due to his somewhat quiet speaking voice. He continued, "I was not there to see it, but from what I am told, she ran into one of the local residents."
"The Illmorein?" Ki'vei-ta said in amazement, "This is quite interesting. They are very skittish creatures."
"It was the young diplomat," Me'vi-te said, "S'iirai. I have spoken with her before. She was training under U'lla."
"The Illmorein are wary of outsiders," Thwei'ja continued brusquely, "We are forced to announce our arrival many rotations beforehand, lest we startle them. They do not do well under intense pressure, from what I understand. S'iirai herself is rather wary as well."
He turned to the two arbitrators, "I will allow Me'vi-te and Warkha to continue, since I myself was not there to see it."
Warkha stepped forward, his ghostly white hide and glowing green eyes giving off an eerie, ethereal look in the dimly lit room, "We arrived in time to witness the end of it," he began, his voice low, "The young Avian was battling alone against a Bad Blood Me'vi-te and I had pursued to Illmianyar. We saw that she was doing so in protection of S'iirai. Her distraction enabled us to get close enough to attack without the Bad Blood noticing. S'iirai no doubt relayed the events of that time to her people."
"This defensive maneuver has clearly left its mark with the Illmorein." Thwei'ja continued.
"I agree," Sechinde said suddenly, "We have received transmissions from them regarding sightings of the Sert'truuc. Normally, they are reluctant to make the first move, as it were."
Ki'vei-ta hummed, her tusks clicking thoughtfully, "They are more confident in conversing with us." she remarked, "Intriguing."
"I believe that S'iirai may have been involved in this change," Thwei'ja said, "And I also believe that the Avian was a factor in that change. We have received two transmissions from S'iirai asking to speak with her. We have had to explain that she was in training and must not be bothered."
"This is quite a lengthy method of convincing me the Avian is a natural diplomat." Ki'vei-ta said with a click of amusement. Thwei'ja chuffed to hide his own amusement in the matter. He resumed topic quickly, "She has an affinity for language," he said, "As we converse, she has learned two and is now adjusting a third into her mind."
"And how is she accomplishing this?"
"She is gleaning the information from our databanks." Thwei'ja answered.
Ki'vei-ta briefly flared her lower mandibles in irritation, but she tucked them back against her face quickly, "Very well. It is too late this far into the problem anyway. Sechinde." she said, turning to the Elder, "What sort of benefit do you foresee from keeping the female Avian?"
Sechinde eyed her warily. He had a feeling she was testing him. Of all the Yautja in the Triad, Sechinde was one of only three that had had direct experience with the unusual N'-ithyan race. As humans grew more advanced and violent, attention had shifted onto them and the Avians sort of slipped into legend over the generations. Now that they had one alive and well aboard the ship, deciding what to do with it became an issue. Ki'vei-ta likely suspected Sechinde's history with the Avians, probably believing there was more to his tale of his acquisition of that skull than he was letting on. He huffed deeply, "I believe her skills are useful," he said, "Her speed is unmatched. I am under the opinion that if she were sent to chiva, she would no doubt emerge victorious."
"We cannot do that." one of the silent Elders muttered, "Enough taboos have been broken thus far."
"Taboos are broken frequently, Neh'r'ki." Ki'vei-ta said breezily, "It is all part of the process of growth and evolution. Whether we choose to accept it or not is our problem. However, I do see your point. The Avian is far too small and far too weak to go to chiva, assuming we could reach agreement on it anyway."
"To what end has S'iirai been contacting the Avian?" Neh'r'ki asked Sechinde.
"The Illmorein is under the opinion that there may be more to discover regarding that race on N'-ithya." Sechinde replied, "She wishes for Luar'ka's guidance on the matter."
"We will see about permitting this request." Ki'vei-ta said, "In the meantime, the matter on whether or not the Avian remains is closed. We will tolerate her presence here for the time being. The same conditions stand."
"What about her standing with the Unbloods?" Thwei'ja asked.
"She has endured a full season and prevailed. Her battle with Da'k-vi was quite impressive." Ki'vei-ta said, nodding her approval, "I will permit her to return to your group, Thwei'ja. You and your comrades are to take over in her training from here on. Continue to allow her access to the language bank, but restrict her from other data."
"There is also the matter of armor for her." Thwei'ja pointed out, "She is far too small to fit into discarded scraps."
"The tradition is to earn one's own armor." Neh'r'ki said irritably.
"That it is," Ki'vei-ta agreed, "And she shall. She may return to your pack within ten rotations' time, Thwei'ja. However, I want you to inform her that during that time, she is to resume competing for armor scraps with the rest of the Unbloods. We will then have them reforged to fit her. It cannot be helped that she is diminutive in size." she said somewhat impishly.
"And S'iirai?" Sechinde added.
"Once her ten rotations are complete, have her respond to the Illmorein's transmissions. Do not alert her until this time."
Ki'vei-ta stood, signaling the meeting was now over. She left the room abruptly, clearly fed up with talking about the Avian.
The rest of the council prepared to leave, muttering silently to one another as they did. Thwei'ja also stood, his shoulders sagging briefly with a heavy sigh as he shook his head. He glanced up at the approach of one of the arbitrators to his left, reaching up and shaking his shoulder in greeting, "G'kaun-yte, Warkha." he said, "Your presence was appreciated."
"Tell me," Warkha said, "How long do you plan to spend on your next scouting mission?"
"It will likely be twenty rotations, I suppose." Thwei'ja mumbled, "I cannot promise anything. Why do you ask?"
"I was inquiring for personal reasons. Nothing more." Warkha said evasively, "I will return to Illmianyar briefly to continue the search for any kiande amedha sightings."
"I do not believe there are any," Thwei'ja said, "I saw nothing while I was there and my comrades saw nothing, either. At the moment, the world I am most concerned about is N'-ithya."
"Sightings?" Warkha ventured.
"Plenty. The To'r'khe sent out three hunting parties to investigate. At the moment, we have no answers."
Warkha nodded, stepping back, "Very well. I shall await further news." he said, moving out of the room silently. Thwei'ja watched him go, feeling mild trepidation over the whole matter. In any event, he had other things to worry about. Soon, the little Endling was going to be back underfoot. As he neared his twilight years, Thwei'ja found he enjoyed commotion less and less than he used to. He supposed he should enjoy the quiet while he still had it. Paya knew it wouldn't last.
/ooo/
"What?!" Luar'ka cried, bolting up in the middle of another examination. An aggravated snarl from Than'ja convinced her to lay back down, though she remained fidgety, "Why are you telling me this now?" she grumbled.
"I do not decide these things, Luar-ke Lar'ja." he grumbled, picking up a syringe loaded with blue dye. He injected this into her veins to follow the blood flow. Luar'ka winced as the dye began to work its way thickly through her bloodstream, causing mild discomfort, "I know that, Than'ja, but when something is happening that I am involved in, it would be nice to be alerted sooner once in a while. Just so I do not miss it." she grumbled sarcastically.
"You would not miss it, young one." Than'ja said, the sarcasm flying straight over his head as usual. Luar'ka rolled her eyes. Sarcasm was one of the few joys of tone she'd held onto from her time on Earth and it was completely wasted on the tone deaf Yautja. They understood various vocal wordings that implied inflections, rather than inflections themselves. This often made for awkward English dialogue whenever she engaged in her native tongue with a Yautja. Hence, the reason she spoke Yautjan as her dominant language. It was less of a headache.
"So, I have been praised by the Matriarch, then? I suppose that is something to be proud of."
"You are of another world. It is much to be proud of." Than'ja said, "You have also been cleared to return to us soon. Ten rotations."
"What!?" Luar'ka shouted, bolting upright, causing Than'ja to accidentally stab the syringe into her arm that he was working on, breaking the needle off and embedding it into her skin. Luar'ka trilled in pain as she flopped back down, grinding her teeth. Than'ja hissed at her and stalked over to the storage compartments for another syringe while Luar'ka painstakingly fished the broken one out of her arm. Than'ja smacked her hand away and used a pair of pliers to pull it out himself. He slammed the tool back onto the work tray and shoved her back down onto her back, snarling angrily.
After a few minutes, when Luar'ka judged he'd cooled down enough, she broached the subject again, "I will be leaving the kehrite soon?"
"Yes," he answered gruffly, still a bit miffed at her, "I was informed by Thwei'ja during the night hours. You will soon return to the four of us."
"To do what?"
"Further training. I do not know specific details. I would imagine it will not be long before we know more."
She tried to sit up again, but again, he pushed her back down, turning her to her side to again inspect her wings. Luar'ka sighed, growing increasingly bored, "Are you finished yet?" she asked.
"Nearly," he replied, testing her wing joints again by flexing them in and out. Luar'ka glanced over her shoulder at him, "You are certainly fascinated with my wings, Than'ja."
"Is it hard to understand why?"
"Not particularly. You might as well amputate them, for how much good they do me." she grumbled, plunking her head back down on the table. Than'ja yanked one of her feathers out, causing her to yelp. Nothing more was needed to get the point across. Luar'ka found it odd that a Yautja as laid back as Than'ja could be irritated so easily by things she said without thinking. Maybe it was a sign that she was close to him and the others or something. She didn't know. She pulled her injured arm up to her mouth, licking the sore spot tenderly. She fell silent, deciding to doze while Than'ja continued to work on her. This didn't last when the door suddenly slid open with a whoosh! Luar'ka looked up as Thwei'ja appeared and she instantly braced, sitting up despite Than'ja's protesting snarl. Luar'ka was used to Than'ja and the other healers seeing her lacking normal coverings, but she was still adjusting to the fact that nudity meant next to nothing to them. Her feathers flared as Thwei'ja approached, towering over her even as she sat on the elevated worktable. He eyed her briefly before turning to Than'ja, "Have you informed her, yet?" he asked.
"Of the impending transfer? Yes, I have. Just now."
"Good. Endling, there is yet one more stipulation you are to follow before you are returned to us." he said.
Luar'ka's brow furrowed, "Forgive me, but what did you just call me?" she asked, too piqued about the possible insult to care that she was going out of line. Thwei'ja's spines rose in irritation, "I called you what you are. You are an Endling. I will refer to you by nothing else. Now pay attention." he snapped. Luar'ka fell silent, her head bowed but her expression fierce. Thwei'ja overlooked it as he continued, "Before the following ten rotations are up, you are to participate in competition for armor scraps with the other Unbloods."
Luar'ka tilted her head in confusion, "What? But there is no point; None of those scraps fit me." she pointed out.
"This is true. Pieces you successfully claim between now and then will be reforged to a smaller size." Thwei'ja told her, "You must fight for any armor you will earn."
"Ki-sei." Luar'ka said firmly.
Thwei'ja nodded and turned to Than'ja, "How are her scans coming along?"
"Quite well," Than'ja confirmed, "However there is still more I wish to learn. Her physiology is a mystery to me."
"You will have more time. For now, she must return to the kehrite. She must have armor before we depart once more."
Thwei'ja turned abruptly, leaving as quickly as he came. The door slid shut and Than'ja sighed, "Well, that is that. You know what you must do, now." he said to her.
"Yes," she agreed, "I only hope I can succeed."
"You may. Give it time."
"On the chance I may fail, what then?" she asked.
"You are a special case; should this occur, I will speak with Ikthya'de about constructing armor for you. He will likely be in charge of reforging your pieces, regardless."
Luar'ka watched as he sorted his supplies, preparing to clean some of them and placing others away in their appropriate storage containers. She hopped down off the table and dressed herself again, adjusting her wings as she managed to tie the straps herself this time. Normally, she slept in her coverings and only bothered with the straps after an exam or whenever she bathed. Now that was a whole other trip she didn't even want to think about unless she needed to. There were some levels of modesty she was still working on stifling.
She'd worry about the armor battles later. For now, she bid goodnight to Than'ja and headed to the storeroom. She was too tired to study right then, opting instead to bundle tightly into the thick pelt she still kept, snuggling down and breathing in the comforting scent. She listened to the sounds of her Yautjan brother working quietly outside the door, occasionally grumbling to himself in thought. Over the many, many rotations since her arrival on the clan ship, she'd come to find that the clicking sound the Yautja made was one of deep thought or contemplation when executed in short, shallow taps. It was now a soothing sound for her, though she was sure that anyone else would find it quite ominous.
Twisting her tail around so it lay beneath her head, she transformed it into a makeshift pillow and closed her eyes, gradually settling into a much needed sleep.
/ooo/
Ten rotations. Ten rotations of the homeworld Luar'ka had yet to see. This was all the time she was allowed in which to win herself some armor. R'zha had apparently been told of the stipulations. This was the only excuse she could think of the following sunrise when she met the other Unbloods in the kehrite for early lessons and saw a pile of faded, chipped, damaged, and next-to-useless armor and weapons sitting on the floor. She eyed it carefully, knowing that with her minute size in comparison to her peers, she would be able to seize little of it, if anything. But she had to have armor before she rejoined her brothers aboard their ship. If it could be re-sized for her, then perfect. All she had to do was grab something she could use and hold onto it.
The way these battles worked was fairly simple. All of the students would rush to claim the pieces they could, of course aiming for the best. From there, fight to keep their prizes.
Simple. In theory.
Luar'ka knew she'd reach the pile first. There was no question. After all, for her, that was the easy part. But the hard part came when she stopped to realize she'd only have one chance to grab what she wanted and flee out of reach before the others made it there. For as fast as she was, she was a lightweight. Any of the students could easily steal what she claimed and there would be too much commotion to fight back easily. She'd be forced to surrender her catch.
The other students were eying the pile eagerly, already itching to get into the fray. They were all selecting what they wanted to aim for preemptively. Luar'ka stood close to Thei'dah, glancing up at him as he stood silently beside her, his fists at his sides. He noticed her looking and tilted his head down. She smiled a toothy grin at him, a mock challenge he found amusing, "No going easy on me this time, Thei'dah." she chimed.
"To think you would insult me so readily." he responded impishly, "I am far more honorable than that."
Luar'ka chuckled, tucking her wings as close to her back as she could to prevent injury.
R'zha was standing on the other side of the room, eying each of his students carefully. He was already testing them.
Luar'ka feverishly scanned the pile from afar, chewing on her lower lip nervously. In the past, she'd watched these brawls from the ceiling, out of harm's way since she could never compete. Now, she was going to be in the thick of things. Her heart hammered in her chest, her legs burning from the coiled tension she was building up for the spring. A few pieces in the pile caught her eye. She knew she'd need shin guards for her delicate, bony legs. There was a dull, faded set strapped together in the pile off to the side. But it was buried beneath the tattered remains of a sivk'va-tai and its mounting fuel pack that attached over the shoulder. Of course the cannon itself was missing; those were the end goal for all chiva participants, who would find their weapons hidden away for them in the heart of their destination, assuming they made it that far. What lay in the pile was simply the armor itself, whose value now lay in defense. She knew those were heavier than they looked. She wouldn't have time to dig the guards out from beneath it in the milliseconds she'd have once she reached the pile first.
That single ki'cti-pa was tempting, even without its companion piece, and from what she could see, the retractable blades appeared to still be functional. However, those probably had to be made to fit the warrior in question; she very much doubted that could be reforged. As much as it goaded her, she was going to have to ignore it.
The al'Nagara sticking up from the center of the pile was appealing, but the blade looked a little too long for her to handle just yet at her size. Besides all that, what she really needed right now was armor, not weapons. Focus! She told herself.
Her eyes settled on a set of discarded shoulder guards. Except for an obvious dent on the one side, they seemed to be in fairly good shape. They were out of the way a bit more than the rest of the armor and tied firmly with strong cord to hold them together as a set. Her tongue flicked out across her mouth in anticipation; she'd selected her 'prey', as it were. Now, she had to run it down.
The waiting was torture. Even with her guarantee to make it there first, being able to shift from stationary to sprinting almost instantly, Luar'ka knew she'd have mere moments to snatch her prize. R'zha was doing this on purpose; he knew that the longer they were forced to wait, the more discipline they'd be forced to draw upon and the more keyed up they'd get. Luar'ka focused on drowning out everything around her, listening to the steady thumping of her heart pumping blood through her body, readying her coiled muscles to spring. Her tail stiffened on reflex, preparing to balance her launching sprint. As she centered her mind, the harsh breathing of the others faded from her consciousness, her gaze trained on that single set of armor. It was the same as hunting and fighting. The same fire, the same icy blood, the same pounding pulse. Adrenaline raced through her before they'd even begun. It was a rush truly worth living for. With every second she was forced to wait and anticipate R'zha's command, Luar'ka felt more and more alive.
R'zha barked harshly. Luar'ka's world exploded on her mind as she sprung the very second she heard his voice, darting forward well ahead of her peers as she careened across the floor of the kehrite, her mind locked and on target. She could hear the others behind her, already beginning the battle for the crucial objects. All Luar'ka saw was the set she'd chosen as she reached the pile three seconds before the others and snatched up her selected prize. Her feathers flared and she bolted sideways, narrowly avoiding one of the others as he lashed out toward her, apparently having eyed the same set. She bared her teeth, her second eyelid going down as she bent her head and sank her teeth into his arm, ripping open his thick hide from the momentum driving her forward. She staggered away from him, taking off toward the opposite wall with her attacker pursuing her closely. Tucking her prize beneath her arm, she leaped at the wall and, heart hammering painfully, started climbing.
She screeched when she felt the tug on her feathers as the large Yautja grabbed her tail and yanked her back down. Instinct activated and she spun in his grasp, raking her claws across his unprotected face. Fight or flight had kicked in to the fullest and Luar'ka lost all sense of meaning as she thrashed viciously in his grip. It wasn't uncommon for her opponents to be unable to get a firm hold on her once she'd gotten in this close to them, especially when she was in the front instead of the back. Her throat burned from the sharp shrieks that left it as she slashed ferociously at him while he managed to catch her by the arm and fling her to the side. Still clutching her prize for all she was worth, Luar'ka twisted and collided with the floor on her side, her shoulder buckling. Righting herself, her tail lashing, she charged forward blindly, her second eyelid blocking her vision out. But now, her senses were all in high gear and sight was no longer necessary. The smell of his blood running down his face drew her straight to him as she attacked his face again while his sharp talons dug fiercely into her sides, ripping through her skin. Her arms halfway pinned by his grip, she thrust her head forward, her jaws open as she snapped swiftly at him, catching one of his mandibles in her mouth. Blind with bloodlust, she wrenched her neck back, hearing the sharp crack as the appendage snapped under the blunt force. The mandibles of the Yautja were stronger than they looked and Luar'ka knew this. Even though her fury, she understood the needed force to break them.
Her opponent trilled a sharp wail of pain and raked his claws down her back, severing the straps of her covering which fluttered to the floor along with a gush of her bright red blood. Luar'ka screeched shrilly and slashed at his face one last time, propelling herself up over him and bounding off of his shoulder as she launched herself toward the wall. Digging her claws in, somehow still managing to hold onto the shoulder plates, she scampered up the wall until she safely hung from the ceiling, gasping fiercely and shuddering from the pain of the fresh wounds all across her uncovered sides and back. The vague thought of how nice those scars would look once they'd healed flashed through her mind briefly. Drawing in shallow, shaky breaths, she finally allowed her protective second eyelids to retract, her vision returning once more. Her blood continued to pour freely down to the floor below, occasionally dripping onto the upturned face of Thei'dah glaring up at her, his own glistening blood cascading from the deep slashes all across his scaly skin. She heard the furious snarl creeping up through his belly and chest before it erupted from his throat, his three undamaged tusks flaring widely in aggravated rage directed toward her. Luar'ka noted with a faint twinge of worry and regret when she saw his right eye forced shut from three deep gouges running from his forehead down to the side of his face, directly over his eye.
Flaring her own feathers, Luar'ka hissed back at him softly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut as Thei'dah turned sharply and stalked off to rejoin the fray their peers were still embroiled in. All at once, the sounds of the vicious battle again met her ears and Luar'ka sighed heavily, dropping her head and digging her claws and talons in deeper, hugging her prize close as she started shivering from the dying adrenaline.
It...it was worth it.
Terminology:
al'Nagara- Long blade
ki'cti-pa- Wrist blades
sivk'va-tai- Plasma caster
A/N: Okay, I'm back. Not too terribly much to say right now, but I hope you enjoy this most recent chapter. I'm nearly done with the first book and am planning how to start the second book, with mixed success and few ideas. But it'll come to me! Hopefully. Until next time, my lovelies!
~Luna