Twenty-One

The supply station orbiting Illmianyar was surprisingly quiet. Luar'ka found it odd that so few Yautja currently were aboard it. Thwei'ja had docked their ship alongside the larger supply shuttle and then insisted on dragging her aboard with himself and the others. Luar'ka had, of course, been a bit miffed at this treatment, but she forced herself to get over it. Complaining did no good whatsoever.

She soon understood why this shuttle was so quiet. Not only were there few Yautja there to manage the shuttle, but the ones who were there were all female. They appeared almost immediately to demand the purpose of their business there. Luar'ka stuck close to Kar'kha and his brothers while Thwei'ja explained his purpose there. The female he spoke with then nodded and motioned off to the left before turning and leaving him to his business. Thwei'ja approached another docking terminal, leaving his pack behind to see to any repairs the aged shuttle required.

While Luar'ka helped Ikthya'de by finding the various tools he needed, she cast occasional glances over at Thwei'ja. She sighed in dismay and apprehension when she saw him speaking with Warkha about something. She should have guessed the Arbitrator would still be there when they arrived. She kept her head down and said little as she followed her brother's instructions. He glanced at her now and again as she fished his requested tools from the case, noticing how quiet she was being. While it concerned him, he left the matter alone for the time being.

Luar'ka kept Thwei'ja and Warkha in her peripheral vision as best she could. For the most part, Warkha didn't seem to have noticed her. Their conversation looked serious and she wondered vaguely what it was about. When Ikthya'de barked at her suddenly to pay attention, she forced herself to shift her focus and turned away from them, concentrating on the repairs.

Meanwhile, Thwei'ja listened as Warkha relayed the details of his pursuit of the Sert'truuc ship. Turns out he'd been following it for a while before Thwei'ja and his pack got involved.

"If I had known you were currently Hunting the creature, I would have held back." he said.

"The extra assistance was needed." Warkha replied, "The Sert'truuc do not go down easily. You saw, Thwei'ja; it took three shots to bring that shuttle down. They are hard to hit."

"Do you know anything about the captive it had with it?" Thwei'ja asked.

"I do. His name was Kiimarii. He was a messenger returning from a post. I had encountered him before."

"There was nothing to bring back?"

"That is an interesting question." Warkha said peevishly. Thwei'ja snarled lightly, flaring his tusks, "You are aware of the Illmorein's customs, Warkha. They will already be angry about the destruction of their kin. Remains would have placated them."

"This is certainly an odd turn of events," Warkha said, shaking his head, "That we of the Yautja must spare the fears of the Illmorein."

"I am aware." Thwei'ja said bitterly, "However, it is what must be done and they are indisputably valuable as allies. The Matriarch is hoping to glean more information from them on a rumor she has heard from another Clan."

"What rumor?"

"Not now. It is an in-depth discussion. I will speak with you later on the subject."

Warkha nodded. "Agreed. Now, I have an inquiry for you, regarding the Avian."

Thwei'ja shot him a look of warning. Warkha either didn't notice it or feigned ignorance as he continued, "I have read texts on the subject of their existence and seen the skulls which appeared to be so like those of the ooman race, but so different. And here, I see one up close."

"You saw her last season on Illmianyar." Thwei'ja grumbled, "She is of no consequence. A nuisance, nothing more."

"Perhaps, but this does not lessen my interest. The stories I have heard." he said with an air of dark intrigue, "The texts date back thousands of years prior to now and I have no reason to doubt their validity. It is written in them that for all three captured Avians, the Yautja involved were forced to track them for many rotations and then endure a battle unlike any other, just to bring a single grown adult to the ground. As agile and ferocious as the kainde amedha, yet possessing a level of cunning and intellect to rival our ooman prey Their fight did not lessen until the very moment their skulls were ripped from their corpses. Elusive and powerful; truly a worthy battle."

Thwei'ja watched Warkha's mandibles tick together in fascination as he watched the young Avian working with Ikthya'de to repair a small breach in the hull of the shuttle. The look on Warkha's face was one of a Yautja itching to get into the fray of the Hunt. A bemused and somewhat anticipative chuckle rose from the white Yautja's throat, "Such a struggle like that is one I have ever only imagined."

He turned to Warkha, eying him expectantly, "And your sire has certainly earned a name for himself as one of the few remaining Yautja in existence to have fought them personally."

Thwei'ja rumbled softly in the back of his throat, "Sechinde is secretive," he said in mention of the Yautja responsible for siring him, "When I was still but a pup, I caught sight of the trophy in his ship just one time. I will admit that I too was fascinated by this seemingly ooman trophy with teeth like ours."

"You were already chosen to train with him, then?"

"I was among a collection of candidates he had been observing. It so happened he was impressed with my abilities. Nothing more."

Warkha scowled as he realized Thwei'ja was very skillfully attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction. He huffed drily, "I see no point in protecting the Avian, Thwei'ja. She is fair game."

"She is an uncoordinated, weak youngling. Think of your honor, Warkha." Thwei'ja admonished, "She will provide no challenge now, if ever at all."

"I do not quite believe that." Warkha said, refocusing his stare on the Avian, "Just as I do not believe she is the 'Endling' you claim she is."

"And your reasoning?"

"With a youngling like her in existence, surely there must be a sire or bearer somewhere. Perhaps even other younglings. I do not believe at all she is the last one. However, I do believe that she one day could be."

Thwei'ja sighed, shaking his head. Warkha's rationality chose the weirdest moments to show itself. Now, it showed up in the middle of a rooting desire to Hunt. At least he acknowledged the possibility, so that was something. He'd known the white Yautja a long time, had Hunted with him several times. He was fully aware of the male's tendencies to become a little tunnel-visioned on goals. Such fascinations had almost gotten him killed multiple times. However, over the years, Warkha had clearly learned how to grasp what his limits were and how to regulate his obsessions. It was due to such obsessions, after all, that he'd become such a powerful Hunter in the Sev'kai, despite actually hailing from the Ki'vai. He seemed more comfortable with the middle sect of the Triad than with his own birth Clan. There was no doubt; Warkha was a powerful Hunter, despite his glaring setback as an albino. And even though, to this day, he was still somewhat shunned for his abnormal pigmentation, it clearly hadn't slowed him down much at all. If anything, it gained him momentum. However, to Thwei'ja, it seemed as if his old comrade had been growing rather restless of late and this concerned him greatly.

Now, he'd set his sights on Luar'ka and Thwei'ja felt a twinge of apprehension at this. He wasn't initially sure why. He cared nothing for the Avian, but the fact that she was still a youngling was a problem, as well as the fact that her species was so heavily endangered, and clearly of interest to the Matriarch. Sechinde and Ki'vei-ta both appeared interested in attempting to salvage the Avian species to once again become prime Hunting targets of the Yautja, as they once were. And Sechinde was even old enough to remember the twilight of those days.

"Warkha, if you Hunt that creature now, you will be defying the Matriarch of the Sev'kai." he warned, turning to face him with his lower mandibles hanging slack, "For whatever reason, she has declared the Avian be permitted to stay within the ranks of the Clan. No matter how loose it is, the Avian now has their protection. You can not Hunt her."

Warkha turned slightly, his bright green eyes leering mischievously, "Who said anything about Hunting, old friend?" he asked, "I merely wish to experience a battle. I want to see what she can do. I am aware I am forbidden to take her as a trophy. While it is quite a shame, I can accept it. But I see no harm in testing her mettle, do you?"

Thwei'ja regarded him seriously, his tusks now tucked so close against his face that his mouth was almost invisible. He sighed, the sound rattling up from deep in his throat as he turned his head to watch the young female as she untangled a jumble of greasy cables while Ikthya'de reconnected them inside the work hatch. Like any good young Hunter, she quickly realized she was being watched and looked up, halting in her activity as she met his stare head on. Thwei'ja leered dangerously at her, his tusks flaring. Her feathers fluffed out and she wisely averted her gaze. Casting one quick, nervous glance at Warkha, she returned to her task, turning her back to them.

"I see no harm in that, no." Thwei'ja finally replied to Warkha, "However, I ask that you wait until we have returned to the Jag'd'dja' atoll to challenge her."

"Agreed. Though I do wish to speak to her before then."

"Permission granted."

Thwei'ja called an end to the conversation and moved back to his ship, nodding his greeting to the brothers working outside of it as he entered. Warkha moved to follow him, his eyes locking on the young Avian. However, the second her feathers erupted outward from her head, he knew she'd seen him coming. He expected her to dart off like any typical prey as he continued to draw nearer to her. In fact, he half hoped she would. It would give him an excuse to pursue her and see her speed in action. He'd heard of it, but he'd never seen it himself. He was forbidden from hurting her, of course, but unnerving her should be fine; she was technically prey after all.

He was caught by surprise when she stood up suddenly, extending her wings and lashing her tail as she turned to face him. Standing at her full height placed her just at the base of his ribcage. Hardly an intimidating height. Even Blooded youngsters stood taller than she did, and they often had multitudes of growth spurts to deal with before reaching an average height. However, the way her eyes bore into him as he approached, her teeth clamped together as if she were resisting the urge to unclench them and snarl at him. He had to admit, he was surprised by her utter lack of general fear. Yes, it was definitely present in her features, but it was so overpowered by sheer anger and apprehension that he almost couldn't sense it.

Warkha held back an anticipative shudder. Oh, he was most definitely going to look forward to fighting her.

The Yautja working beside her grumbled deeply and stood up, but Warkha ignored him. He focused again on the Avian, noting how she met his gaze rather than averting her eyes. It was like she was daring him to attack her. He choked back the impulse to strike, remembering his better, more controlled self as a Yautja close in status to an Elder.

"Luar-ke Lar'ja." he said in greeting, "It has been nearly a whole season, but you have grown considerably."

"As to be expected." she said stiffly, "Is there something I can do for you, honorable Arbitrator?"

He had to admit, he found her grounding impressive. She was still exuding fear of him, but for someone as young as she was, she had it pretty well under control.

"Not as yet." he replied, "I had hoped to run across you following the battle with the Sert'truuc. I had presumed you were dead following our meeting on Illmianyar."

"I hardly think of that as a meeting, Arbitrator. You performed your function well and apprehended a Bad Blood. It so happened to align with my own goal of self-preservation. Why would you assume my death?"

He resisted the urge to smirk as she realized she walked right into his bait, laid down for the sole purpose of initiating further conversation from her. He turned fully, facing her, "You are a creature of prey to the Yautja. I had assumed you had been long since Hunted or perhaps consumed. Yet here you stand, alive and well. Quite impressive."

"Until now, I have been sequestered within the healing ward and the kehrite. Hardly impressive. I shall soon prove my worth and my honor, so hold your condescending until then, if you do not mind."

Warkha chuckled bemusedly, "You misunderstand; I do not intend to speak down to you. I am certain you understand my position. This is most unusual."

He watched as her feathers relaxed, folding back down against her head. Her wings followed suit, sagging against her back and melding with the feathers reaching her shoulders, resembling a mane of feathers flowing down her back. She fixed him with a savage glare, her eyes narrowed and the pupils dilated, "If you have any concerns, I suggest you take them up with Elder Sechinde. Perhaps you are willing to fight for your opinions, Arbitrator. A simple communicator like myself is hardly worthy of your interest or attention."

With that, she turned and stalked back into the ship. Warkha tried to piece together where that conversation had taken such a weird turn. He hadn't expected her to stalk off like that.

He glanced at the Yautja finishing his repairs on the hull of the ship. He looked up from his task and leered suspiciously at the Arbitrator, standing up and moving into the ship on his own volition. Warkha turned and headed back to his own ship, feeling less than satisfied. He had hoped to speak a little further with the Avian. However, as luck would have it, he had more important things to take care of. As he'd been involved in that battle with the Sert'truuc, he would have to present himself down on Illmianyar with Thwei'ja and his pack to confirm the death of the enemy. Perhaps another opportunity would present itself.

As he sealed himself back inside his ship where the majority of his current life was spent, he made his way to the cockpit and punched in the landing coordinates for the planet. He'd just have to bide his time with this one. He could wait.

/ooo/

Luar'ka hadn't set foot on solid ground in a whole season. She'd almost forgotten what dirt and grass felt like. As a creature of the sky (or at least according to her biology) she found herself craving open air and sunshine. The air aboard the Jag'd'dja' atoll was always hot and dry and had dried out her nasal passages, causing several nosebleeds for her in the past several weeks. That had been an interesting visit to the healing ward, trying to explain all the blood to Than'ja while stressing that she hadn't been in a fight. He couldn't understand the reason behind the spontaneous bleeding. That had been the final push she needed to go willingly to the baths where the damp air enabled her cracked and broken thinner skin to heal. She looked forward to moister air and wind, especially.

But she mostly looked forward to seeing S'iirai again. She wondered if the girl would even recognize her. It had been almost a whole season and they'd only known one another for a day. Luar'ka knew she'd changed drastically since then. Gone was her soft, fluffy baby down and her minute wingspan. She now had the wing size with which to glide if she ever learned how. She unfolded her wings and stretched, feeling her spine crick with the movement.

She was sitting on her bedding mat, sorting through her meager belongings when the ship began to rattle and shake tremendously. This time though, she knew better than to panic. She understood now that this was a perfectly normal side effect of entering a planet's atmosphere. It was one of Than'ja's many lessons during her stay with him and the other healers. She looked up out through the viewing portal. The view outside had turned bright orange and fiery as they broke through the atmosphere. It wouldn't be very long now before she and her Yautjan brothers arrived. Then, her new assignment would officially start. She just hoped she could live up to the standards Sechinde had set for her. Cantankerous and eccentric as he appeared to be, she knew she had to trust his judgment. He didn't get to be the advanced age he was without learning much about the universe around him and bettering himself with such knowledge. Hopefully, this wisdom would help serve her new task.

She leaned against the wall, staring outside as the surface of the planet drew nearer and nearer. It resembled N'-ithya greatly, but she'd noticed that she'd begun forgetting key points about her home world after so long away from it. She supposed Illmianyar was as close as she was going to get until she actually returned to N'-ithya.

She looked out the window and saw as they approached the coastline, coming in fast. This time, the Illmorein were expecting their arrival, so they didn't bother to hide themselves. She spotted the many colorful and elaborate tents, varying in size and shape set up all along the edge of the sea. The Illmorein were nomadic, but it seemed they enjoyed this particular location. The ship swung around sharply as the engines flared, slowing its progress. It fell into a slow, hovering descent, swooping gracefully down to land surprisingly gently on the surface of the planet. Luar'ka felt the shudder that ran through the frame of the ship when contact was made. Her wings twitched and she reached around to grab her shoulder plates, fumbling with the ties as she strapped them to her arms. She swept her feathers out of her face, steeling her gaze as she strode toward the door. She tucked her wings back, holding them slightly loose, but high enough to appear as the regal Avian she was.

"Here we go." she said to herself.

She found Thwei'ja and the rest of the pack in the armory adjacent to the ramp leading down out of the ship. The mist from their artificial atmosphere hung heavier than normal as air from Illmianyar filtered in and mixed with it, creating a strange new blend. The Yautja in the room were already donning their bio-masks and she heard Ikthya'de take a few deep breaths a few feet away to acclimate himself to the different mixture ratio created by his gear. The Yautja were capable of breathing various forms of atmosphere with little visible discomfort, but it was clear they didn't like it. They would grudgingly remove their masks in the company of their allies, but until then, they kept them on. Luar'ka never found herself bothered by the shift in air wherever she went. The atmosphere aboard the Jag'd'dja' atoll never seemed to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was like Than'ja said; her lungs were simply more resilient than theirs by design. The air sacs she employed filtered the most oxygen into her blood stream for each and every breath she took, both on inhaling and exhaling. She was starting to truly appreciate it.

Thwei'ja snapped around to her, "Come." he growled.

All four Yautja funneled out of the ship this time. Luar'ka followed suit, this time without skidding on the slippery metal ramp. Her feet were long since accustomed to their metals.

She squinted and grunted in discomfort at the sudden flash of sunlight in her face. Instantly, the gentle rush of the breeze caressed her face and she couldn't suppress the happy sigh that left her. It was like being greeted by an old and dear friend. She smiled in spite of herself and opened her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun seep into her feathers. Her wings unfolded of their own accord, as if drinking in the sun's energy.

She joined her pack at the base of the ramp where they stood, edgy but silent as they stared at three approaching figures coming toward them. Luar'ka recognized them from her memories of S'iirai and from the transmission. Three tall, elegant, lithe humanoid figures with flowing manes of brightly colored tendrils of varying shade and length, delicate feet and gleaming, sparkling black eyes which mirrored the deepest depths of space.

The Illmorein.

One of them, an older female with vivid chartreuse colored tendrils and stark white skin, stepped forward and bowed respectfully, "Greetings, Yaanya." she said, her voice soft, "And welcome to Illmianyar."

Luar'ka studied the Illmorein sent to greet them. None were any she recognized from the transmission. All seemed somewhat older, at least, more so than S'iirai was. Each of them had their tendrils bunched up into thick braids behind them, unmoving. Luar'ka recalled that S'iirai was able to read her thoughts. She wondered if this 'style' had something to do with it.

Thwei'ja stepped forward, bowing his head toward them. His posture was stiff and rigid; clearly, this was not a custom he was comfortable with and Luar'ka understood why. Bowing the head for any reason other than sadness or despair was a sign of submission. And short of the death of a close comrade or brother, the Yautja had little to despair over, thus this type of act was rarely performed by any sane Yautja male who valued his rank and status. Luar'ka found herself impressed that Thwei'ja would show such deep respect by following the Illmorein code of respect. He clicked deeply a few times, slowly, as if trying to commune his meaning for them to understand.

Luar'ka took that as her cue and stepped forward in front of her brothers, back straight, eyes forward as she greeted the Illmorein, "Your greeting is appreciated," she improvised since that wasn't what Thwei'ja had said. However, the instinctive need to be respectful took over and she translated correctly from there, " ' We would prefer to begin communications promptly. There is much to discuss regarding the present matter.' "

The elder Illmorein regarded Luar'ka silently for a moment and then turned to her companions, "Does this one look like a Yaanya to you?"

"I'm not sure. Come to think of it, I have never laid eyes on a female of their species before. Perhaps this is a young one?"

"But since when did the Yaanya have feathers? This simply cannot be a female of their kind. It must be some sort of creature they found."

"But what kind? I have never seen anything like it."

Luar'ka sagged a bit in dismay and confusion as she watched them.

"But she is so much smaller than the Yaanya usually are. I knew they were sending a communicator, but I was expecting...well, not this, I suppose."

"I can understand everything you are saying." Luar'ka grumbled. The Illmorein instantly refocused their attention on her, "Oh, yes. Forgive us," the chartreuse one said bemusedly, "My name is Kivakei. I am the communications specialist here. Are you...Liu...Liur...Louurkhya?"

Luar'ka wasn't sure what to make of this. It didn't seem the Illmorein were able to pronounce 'Yautja', calling them Yaanya instead. Now they didn't appear able to pronounce her name either.

"Uh." she muttered, thoroughly befuddled.

"Liiurca."

"Uh...no."

"Well, you are the communicator so we have to call you something."

Luar'ka fidgeted slightly, feeling the irritation levels of the pack rising behind her. She could practically feel Thwei'ja's eyes boring holes in the back of her head. Already she was showing poor signs of being a good correspondent. She couldn't even keep the Illmorein on task as they quietly discussed what name she should have! She was screaming inside in frustration.

"All right, then. How about Khiinya? How does that sound?"

It sounded absolutely nothing like her name. Luar'ka's wings sagged, her confidence from before having completely drained away. This was a feat an entire year under R'zha's brutal tutelage hadn't even managed to accomplish. The Illmorein were truly formidable in their own, weird way.

"Khiinya is fine." she mumbled, defeated. How many names had she had now in the past year of her life? Three? Four? She'd already lost track.

Kivakei smiled and tapped her right foot on the ground, "Excellent! Now, if you all will come with us, we can get introductions out of the way and get started with the meeting."

Introductions?! Luar'ka slapped a hand over her eyes and groaned. Her brothers moved stiffly past her and Than'ja lagged behind, staring down at her through his mask. He thumped her on the back with his hand, knocking her back to reality. She looked up at him in dismay, ((Than'ja, these are the weirdest creatures I have ever had to deal with.)) she hissed.

A short trill escaped him, thankfully, one of amusement, ((Yes, they are quite bizarre, Luar'ka. However, despite their...oddities, they have proven themselves time and again as capable sources of information. We tolerate them for this purpose.))

((But for this?)) she pressed.

((Our customs are, as I understand it, far too violent for them to handle. While in their company, we do our best to suppress them for the time being.))

He moved past her, following the Illmorein and the rest of the pack. Luar'ka followed after him. She had to keep it together. The brothers in the pack likely would give her a little more leeway, but Thwei'ja was another story. One wrong step around him and if he didn't kill her himself, she knew that another Yautja would be more than happy to take the job.

As she gained distance and matched pace with them, she watched as the chartreuse Illmorein turned her head to look back at her, "So, Khiinya," she said, already making use of the name forced on her, "You do not look much like the Yaanya at all. What are you?"

"I was born an Avian. I live as Yautja." Luar'ka answered stiffly.

"I have never heard of your race. Are you from far away?"

"We are extinct. I am the only one alive." Luar'ka admitted, doing her best to hide the quiver in her voice when she said that. To hear it from others was one thing, but to actually admit it was a whole other battle. Kivakei's expression faltered, "Oh...I am so sorry."

"Never mind," she replied, determined to bring the conversation back on track, "Where are we to hold the discussion?"

"In the pavilion. It is peaceful and secluded. It's quite calming in there."

Luar'ka had no idea what a pavilion was. She just hoped that whatever it was, it was a place where communication wouldn't be constantly undermined by petty interests and inquiries.

"A pavilion is a gathering place for our people. We hold our celebrations and meetings there, and I have to say, while I've rarely been there, the one in which the S'iianti lives has the most delicious food growing there."

Luar'ka threw her a look of utter bafflement and one of the other Illmorein nudged her companion, "Kivakei, you've allowed your tendrils to come undone. Didn't you notice?" she whispered fervently.

Kivakei gasped and hurriedly twisted her tendrils back into their former braid, "I had not even felt it! My apologies, Khiinya, I didn't mean to peruse your thoughts so carelessly."

Luar'ka heard one of her brothers grumble behind her, no doubt thankful that her thoughts had been picked up rather than those of the Yautja. No doubt a trip into one of their minds would turn any sane Illmorein into a terrified, gibbering wreck.

Luar'ka studied the terrain upon which they walked. It was a narrow road of sorts, leading across the sparsely populated field covered in thick, soft grasses. Luar'ka noticed that the Illmorein's narrow feet barely trampled a single blade as they walked, making nary a sound in the process. Her own three-toed feet supported her weight on the soft soil, which she could feel tugging on her with every step. Even the Yautja were forced to watch their steps here, lest they stumble in the abnormally soft and fertile ground. It was truly a strange experience. As they cleared the rise of a hill, the dark violet colored Illmorein to the left turned and beamed with closed lips at Luar'ka, "Come up here, Khiinya. I'm sure you haven't seen a sight like this, before." she said.

Luar'ka pushed her steps closer to the Illmorein as she arrived at the top of the hill. Her eyes widened at the sight down at the very base of the slope. A multitude of enormous, brightly colored tents decorated the land on the shores of a sparkling sea. She could see that the tents were supported by great central posts and, with no visible windows, provided entry through cavernous gaps in between the folds of the draping material. However, Luar'ka's sensitive eyes found themselves somewhat put off by the incredibly odd choice of coloring the Illmorein seemed to favor. No color truly complimented another; they seemed to be chosen at random, or else by how brightly one color shown out next to another one. The only word that came to Luar'ka's mind as she gazed upon the mass assortment of tents was 'gaudy'.

"Your home?" she ventured.

"One of them. Our principle city is quite far off. This is one of our larger settlements. Since Illmianyar has been entirely destroyed, our people live happily here, now. Thus, our capitol is the only settlement whose location does not change."

"I see. Those tents are...beautiful. But they look rather drafty."

The female to her left eyed her in confusion, "You are concerned for the air passage?" she asked, clearly not grasping the concept.

"The temperature in the pavilions can be regulated at will," Kivakei explained, " You need not worry, we have been preparing for your arrival. To keep our guests comfortable, we have kept the entrance to our chosen gathering place closed for several days, allowing warm air to continue to circulate. It is now quite warm in there."

So they knew and understood the Yautja's need for hot temperatures in order to thrive best. Luar'ka had to admit, she was impressed. It did make her wonder, though, exactly how long this bizarre alliance had gone on for. But there were some questions she knew better than to ask and she wisely kept her mouth shut.

Thwei'ja let out a series of low clicks, growls and trills, earning the attention of the confused Illmorein. They glanced at once another in clear discomfort, unable to understand what he'd said. Luar'ka cleared her throat, earning their attention, " ' The conditions will serve well for the meeting, but we shall return to our ship upon reaching its conclusion.' " she translated.

"Oh, I see." Kivakei said with a gracious nod, "Very well, then. Well, continue to follow us, if you please."

It was clear the Yautja were more comfortable in both their natural climate and air found within the secured confines of their ships.

It appeared that they'd arrived during the tail end of some sort of festival. Luar'ka noted that while many Illmorein they approached or passed on their way to one of the pavilions was dressed normally, a few stood out. Gaily bedecked in costumes as colorful as they were absurd, Luar'ka found it hard not to stare. Here stood an Illmorein dressed in an elaborate bird costume, complete with wings and a feathered headdress with plumage running down his back. There stood a female Illmorein wearing some sort of guady gown covered in flowers and beads. The whole spectacle was as enchanting as it was ridiculous. The Illmorein who weren't in costume wore simple yet elegant garb that flowed across the curves of their bodies as if they were simply extensions of their own flesh. The natural clothing consisted of shades of whites, browns and blacks. Some garments had ruffled edges attached to billowing sleeves or hems, while some maintained a seamless, flowing wave clear through, with no sign of a wrinkle or fold to be seen.

Every Illmorein that noticed them immediately shrank back and gave them space. Many nodded in greeting to them, while others, likely not as familiar, went pale and darted out of sight. Luar'ka could sense her brothers' tension as the scents of fear wafted into range. Usually, a creature fleeing before them triggered an almost instinctive response to pursue. But by sheer strength of will, they held back their natural aggressive urges, continuing down the pathway silently and calmly.

"Here we are." One of their guides said, "Please wait inside. S'iianti U'lla will arrive in a few moments."

They had reached one of the enormous tents and Luar'ka could now see that the material comprising them was actually solid, not so much fabric. It was covered in small pores that filtered air through them. She wondered if perhaps, like the ships, these tents' internal temperature could be regulated like Kivakei said, even to the same minute degree as the ships.

Their guides left them then and, with rather obvious reluctance, the Yautja entered the tent to wait. Luar'ka followed them, aware of the stares of the other Illmorein in the area as she did so.

The inside of the tent was spacious and warm, covered in soft grass all along the floor. Sparse furniture was set about the area from a few ornate rugs to small, elegantly carved wooden chairs. Luar'ka could see that there were many twisting, fluffy shrubs and bushes growing in carefully designed patterns all around the interior of the pavilion. Some were covered in colorful flowers and berries Luar'ka had never seen before, while others were bare and rather plain. It was clear that this was someone's home, which doubled as a meeting place. In the back of the tent, Luar'ka could see what appeared to be some sort of elevated sleeping mat strung to the rafters of the pavilion. There were a few such platforms hanging along the edges of the tent.

((It never gets easier, Mei'hswei.))

Luar'ka turned at Ikthya'de's voice as he spoke with Than'ja. The elder brother sighed and shook his head, ((I am aware, but we must keep up the pretense. It is a long shot, but the Illmorein may know what happened to that shuttle. If they do, we must speak with them about it.))

Luar'ka strode forward and stood beside them, ((What am I to do?)) she asked.

Thwei'ja turned to her instead where he had been standing silently, staring off into space, ((Translate our words to them. Nothing more.)) he growled, ((And keep them on focus as best you can.))

Luar'ka blanched and immediately looked away guiltily, ((Forgive me for my lapse in attention, Thwei'ja. I did my best.))

Their leader let out a low, frustrated rumble, ((For once, you are not at fault, Endling,)) he snarled, ((The Illmorein often stray from the topic of discussion for one reason or another.))

((I...I see.)) Luar'ka answered, relieved she wasn't in trouble...for the moment.. Honestly, it felt a little weird knowing Thwei'ja wasn't mad at her for a change. She had to admit, this whole situation felt weird. Maybe it was the duration of extended time she'd spent with the Yautja. She wasn't sure. She felt out of place in this serene, sublime environment. She was again struck by how odd it was for such a violent race as the Yautja to have such peaceful allies. Than'ja had presented her with more documentation of their shared history, somewhat brief in the grand scheme of things since the Yautja were by far the older race. Their history dated back at least fifty-thousand years. Apparently, until the dawn of space travel, no records of Yautjan history were kept. Then, stories, myths, facts, records and various literary what-not were gathered, sorted, and stored away for future usage. Everything before then was shrouded in mystery. Therefore, their true origins were as yet unknown. However, their history with the Illmorein was just as mysterious. Luar'ka now understood what S'iirai had spoken of with the Yautja taking slave races of worthy species. However, the odd peacekeepers were simply too weak in body and spirit to be workers. They were also too peaceful and, again, too weak to be prey. The Yautja had little other use for them. Even so, thanks to their telepathy, they were well-informed on goings-on within the universe and this gave them an edge. The concern came about from their need, much like the Yautja, to protect their own secrets as well. Luar'ka knew she'd have to tread carefully and pay attention, or else she'd be completely lost. Forget Thwei'ja; if Sechinde decided she wasn't worth keeping then she had no hope whatsoever. She just counted herself lucky that Sechinde seemed to be somewhat fascinated by her.

She sensed and heard one of the others approaching her and turned as Kar'kha stood behind her, staring down at her. He'd removed his mask, taking shallow, even breaths to acclimate to the gentler atmosphere of the flora-rich planet.

((Are you well?)) he asked. Luar'ka fluffed her feathers briefly before settling, ((Yes...Um, Kar'kha? Is...never mind. It is of no consequence.))

Kar'kha chuffed once, his eyes falling half-mast in amused annoyance, ((You require much more practice, Avian.)) he said, sitting down cross-legged on the grass with a sigh. He reached around to hang his mask from a holster on his right shoulder plates.

((And what does that mean?))

((To be nervous or anticipative before a battle or Hunt, especially on the first Hunt, is not dishonorable, Luar'ka.)) Kar'kha said, glancing at her. His mandibles twitched upward slightly, as if he found her edginess amusing, ((What is dishonorable is allowing it to take over your state of mind and become hindered by it. That is when trepidation becomes frowned upon.))

Luar'ka sighed, ((Is it so obvious?))

((Quite. The scent of your fear has saturated the pavilion.)) Kar'kha said drily. Luar'ka threw him an irritated glare and folded her legs as she sat down, ((My mission is absurdly simple; translate what you all say to the Illmorein so that we may conduct our business and be on our way back to the Jag'd'dja' atoll. Compared to what R'zha put me through, this is nothing.))

((That was training. This is an actual mission. It is different.))

((Not so different that I could not handle it.))

((I did not say that.))

((Oh, so you think I can?))
Kar'kha rumbled low, deep in his throat, reaching out to lightly grasp her head. Luar'ka watched him quietly, curious to his reaction. His grip clamped down suddenly, digging his claws into her scalp. Luar'ka squeaked in pain, flailing angrily to get out of his iron grip, ((Let go! Let go! Let go! Ow!)) she yelled, ((All right, no more! I yield!))

Kar'ka released her with a satisfied rumble, his upper mandibles torquing outward in a pleased grin, ((Good.))

Luar'ka hissed at him, contemplating whether or not she had enough time to tackle him and try to get in a few good hits. She ultimately decided against it for the sake of keeping her feathers straight. Ruffling her wings and extending them out slightly, she stood up and sighed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Her feathers twitched as she picked up the sound of footsteps approaching the tent. The flap opened up, allowing sunlight to stream in as six individuals stepped inside. The Yautja all turned to eye them as they approached and the tent flap was lowered again, trapping the warm air inside. This was the first time Luar'ka had seen a male Illmorein; they looked very much like the females. Their faces were sharper and less narrow and their tendrils were much thinner and straighter than the thicker, almost curly tendrils the females possessed. They were also larger than the females by a few inches, but those key differences were where Luar'ka could see it ended. She was too far away to glean more information. A few of the Illmorein looked uncomfortable at the heavy, warm air they'd allowed to develop inside this particular pavilion and one of them eyed the greenery around them with a worried look on his face.

A tall female approached them, her long, blue tinged tendrils braided in a loose twist that hung clear down to her calves. Her face appeared older, being much narrower, with matching ovalular eyes. She wore a deep blue gemstone in the shape of a six-pointed star about her neck. She nodded once, "Thank you for coming, Yaanya. I am U'lla."

Luar'ka looked to Thwei'ja as he grumbled and clicked out a reply of greeting, nodding to her as he did so. She stepped forward, extending her wings in her own greeting before translating his words to her, " 'I am Thwei'ja, the leader of this scouting pack sent by the Matriarch of the Sev'kai. The ...feathered one before you will communicate on our behalf.' " she said, stumbling a bit on his description of her. It took all her willpower not to turn and glare at him for the stupid nickname.

U'lla eyed her curiously and nodded assent, turning to introduce her comrades, "These are members of the high council we are developing on the Ancestors' insistence. I have brought them along in order to greet you in person. I'm fairly certain you know one of them already."

A young female stepped forward and Luar'ka fought to suppress a grin at the sight of S'iirai.

"I am personally familiar with S'iirai, yes." Luar'ka agreed, "It is good to once again make your acquaintance." she said with a bow. S'iirai returned it, smiling at her briefly before continuing, "Thank you, Avian. Though I myself am still in training, I will do my best to communicate thoroughly and respectfully."

In the end, Luar'ka found her misgivings more or less misplaced. Thwei'ja spoke clearly and meaningfully so she stumbled little over his words and he paused frequently to make certain she was keeping up. She was sure it was more for the Illmorein's benefit than for her own, since it was vital they understand what was going on, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. In return, she spoke clearly and fluidly for them and then successfully enunciated the complex Yautjan tongue, taking full advantage of her odd vocal cords to create the clicks, trills, and growls that made up the majority of their language.

" ' The transmitter aboard the missing shuttle was likely damaged during its theft. We are combing this sector of the system in search of it. It must be found, at all costs.' " Luar'ka translated.

U'lla frowned, brushing a strand of her mane back behind one of her ears, "We have heard you mention this shuttle before. Your Matriarch issued a wide-signal broadcast both to your own people and to us in the process about it, but there was little information to go by. I need to know more. What was on this shuttle that makes it so valuable?"

Luar'ka turned as Thwei'ja weighed his response, clicking something off to Than'ja that she didn't catch. The dark green Yautja shook his head, tapping his tusks together ponderously as he appeared to respectfully disagree with Thwei'ja. Their leader turned back with a low rumble before continuing. Luar'ka faced the Illmorein again, clearing her throat, " ' I am not at liberty to say precisely what is aboard the ship. Chances are that rumors may soon float down to you, but pay them no mind. All that matters is the shuttle's location.' "

U'lla's eyes narrowed, growing stormy, "I cannot say I appreciate this type of response, Yaanya. We are supposed to be your allies, your informers. While it's not a situation the Ancestors are comfortable with, they approve of it for the sake of the people. I personally see a lot of potential in our future dealings, to say nothing of your interest in the Sert'truuc. While some Illmorein may disagree with me, a certain young male crossing my mind—" she said with a pointed glance back toward S'iirai. The female Illmorein's mouth was set in a thin line, her eyes narrowed warningly. U'lla closed her eyes and turned away, " The fact of the matter is that your own interests ultimately benefit us and we reward those interests with desired information. But information must be given for information received. Am I clear enough?"

It wasn't a suggestion or simple inquiry, but Luar'ka did her best to translate as much of what little respect she got as she could. Thwei'ja's spines bristled at her words, which he clearly already understood to some degree, but he kept himself in check, clenching his mandibles tightly against his face, growling out his reply. Luar'ka gulped and whirled around, " ' You make a fair point, Illmorein, but I must acquire permission from the Matriarch and from the Clan council in order to disclose this information. Are you willing to wait a short while? ' "

U'lla nodded, which was all the reply Thwei'ja needed. He whirled and stamped out of the pavilion, no doubt to contact Sechinde. Luar'ka watched him go with mild trepidation. She jumped and turned abruptly as U'lla approached her, eying her carefully. It was almost as if she were studying some rare new insect she wanted to identify.

"I have never seen a creature such as yourself," she said, her voice low and silky, "What are you?"

Luar'ka heard her brothers' clicking behind her, strengthening her resolve whether they knew it or not. Her back straightened, tucking her wings behind her tightly, "I am Avian, S'iianti U'lla," she said with a bow.

"Are you related to the Yaanya in any way?"

"Only through false ties. I was found a season ago by this pack behind me." she said, gesturing to the males standing several feet away. They looked up as they were addressed, but said nothing. Ikthya'de tossed his head with a low snort, turning away from the conversation, while Than'ja met U'lla's stare head on. The older female Illmorein eventually broke eye contact first and refocused her gaze on Luar'ka, "Where are the rest of your people?" she asked.

"I do not know. Many Yautja believe I am all that is left."

"I see. You possess a versatile mouth like ours, capable of learning many tongues, and your memory appears to be useful toward such lingual purposes. So other than communication benefits, why do they keep you? Surely simply making conversing with us easier on themselves can't be the only reason." she asked, tilting her head speculatively.

"I...am not sure of the reason. If there is more of a reason for keeping me, they have not told me of it, yet."

"Well," U'lla said, "While we await your leader's return, if you and your companions are hungry, you may browse through the pavilion and see if anything appeals to you. Various species of fruiting plants grow here and I have heard that the Yaanya are occasionally partial to fruit."

She glanced at the Yautja idling a short ways away. They had heard her, but refused to move. They simply watched her warily. Even Ikthya'de, the one most likely to consider her offer, remained rooted in place. U'lla and the other Illmorein expressed fairly obvious confusion at their standoffish behavior, but Luar'ka suspected she knew the reason. She turned back to the S'iianti, bowing gracefully and thanking her before she and the others stepped outside. Then, she hurried over to her brothers as the Illmorein moved out of earshot, save for one. S'iirai lingered, watching them carefully a moment before wandering over of her own volition. She drew near enough to hear the low clicks and growls Luar'ka exchanged with her brothers as she spoke quietly with them. If she were being honest, S'iirai had to admit she rather liked the sounds they made. In casual conversation, there was something oddly relaxing about the low rumbling sounds that comprised the Yautjan language. Of course, she knew what their full range sounded like and understood better than most how unsettling and eerie their language could be when speaking at full volume. And she gave Luar'ka credit for being able to understand the various nuances and inflections in their complex and tonal dialogue. S'iirai herself knew only about five words in their language and she had no hope of pronouncing them correctly. However, she felt she had to at least try.

"Uh...," she said, earning their attention, "G...G'kaun-yte." she said shakily. The Yautja eyed her curiously, saying nothing, but nodding to her in greeting. Luar'ka stepped forward and smiled with her mouth closed, "Greetings," she replied.

"Okay, can we drop the formalities, now?" S'iirai asked somewhat sheepishly. Luar'ka grinned, revealing her newly erupted sharp teeth and charged forward, jumping up toward S'iirai and tackling her in a hug, "I was wondering when you would ask!" she yelled.

"It's been a whole year, now! How are you?" the Illmorein exclaimed, letting go of her friend and stepping back, "You've gotten bigger."

"Of course I have. I am only a youngling as yet." Luar'ka said somewhat stiffly. S'iirai raised an eyebrow in bewilderment, "You sound odd, now. You don't use conjunctions anymore." she pointed out.

"Huh? Oh. Well, I would imagine it is because the Yautja do not use them. I suppose I fell out of habit."

"You certainly have. You sound entirely different now."

"It is not hard to imagine why. I rarely speak anything other than Yautjan, these days." the Avian female said with a shrug, "It makes conversing easier."

S'iirai looked up to the male Yautja still standing off to the side, waiting patiently for Thwei'ja to return, "So those are your pack members, correct? I recall meeting them last year."

"Yes. I think of them as my brothers and refer to them as such."

"U'lla granted them permission to move about. Why don't they?" S'iirai asked, frowning at her friend, "If you ask me, they almost appear...nervous."

"Probably because they are, but not for the reason you would think." Luar'ka explained as she moved along the walls of the pavilion, examining the bushes, "Ch'hkt-a. The scent of fear is making them anxious. Under such sensory effects, they would normally prepare to Hunt, as the scent of fear usually betrays prey. However, this is not the case here and they are now fighting their natural impulses. Hence, the way they are acting now."

S'iirai hummed, "I see. I can understand that; many of the Illmorein are still wary of them. Their very presence, at least according to Mi'vue, is Ko-Illmorein, entirely against what we stand for and what we are, or so they tell me."

"You agree with that?"

"Not entirely. I was born and raised in space with scouts who spent most of their lives away, seeking out a new home following the destruction of our old home. I've only been with the common settlement for a short while and I'm still adjusting."

Luar'ka sighed, "Just like me, it seems. What is this?" she asked, pulling a branch down with a bright yellow, oblong fruit. S'iirai smiled and plucked it from the branch, "This is a fruit acquired in trade from our human contacts. They call it a lemon. It's pretty good; very sour, though. Take a few."

Luar'ka picked three and examined one. They were some of the strangest fruits she'd ever seen, but they smelled delectable. She felt her mouth water at the tantalizing scent. She shrugged, "Well, I will see if at least one of them can be tempted." she said with a light chuckle. S'iirai's expression changed to one of apprehension and she blinked a few times in surprise. Before she could stop her, Luar'ka moved across the grassy floor of the pavilion to where her brothers still stood silently, now not even speaking with one another. She approached Ikthya'de who lowered his head as she approached, eying her curiously. S'iirai watched as she said something to him in his native language and then handed one of the lemons up to him. His head lowered further to examine it, his long black appendages draping over his shoulders as he did. She watched as he cocked his head to the side and reached out to take the fruit, its small size even more diminutive in his enormous claws. He straightened up, holding it close to his mouth as he apparently took in its scent. Luar'ka took a fruit for herself and sliced it in half with her claws. Ikthya'de muttered something to her, still inspecting the fruit. S'iirai drew nearer as he did this, now close enough to hear a faint, high pitched trill escape him before he popped the whole fruit into his mouth, rind and all. Luar'ka did the same, biting into the half she held. Ikthya'de's mandibles closed over his mouth and S'iirai heard the faint snapping sound as he chewed the lemon. She resisted the urge to giggle when his eyes suddenly widened and he shook his head furiously, stepping backward from the force of it. He let out a muffled bellow and spat the lemon back out with a snarl, saliva pouring from his mouth as his senses were entirely overwhelmed from the sour fruit. Luar'ka had a similar reaction at the same time, shrieking shrilly in shock and her feathers fluffing out and standing straight up. The Yautja snarled viciously and took a sharp swipe at her, which she dodged handily and took off toward the other side of the pavilion, keeping a close grip on the other lemon she still held. Ikthya'de roared after her in fury, but didn't give chase, instead returning to stand with his brothers who had watched this whole spectacle with baffled intrigue.

Luar'ka returned to S'iirai, still sputtering and hissing as the tent flap flew open and two Illmorein rushed in, their faces askew in terror, "What's going on in here?" one of them exclaimed.

S'iirai sighed and shook her head toward them, "Nothing to worry about," she said as she approached them, "Luar'ka just introduced one of the Yautja to a lemon." she said through gritted teeth. The male Illmorein blinked in amazement, looked over at the Yautja, including the one shaking his head lightly and salivating heavily in between low snorts and snarls and then focused his gaze back on the young Avian standing sheepishly beside S'iirai. He shook his head in bewilderment, "You're rather demented, aren't you?" he said before turning and leaving with his companion, closing the tent door behind them. S'iirai groaned, watching Luar'ka as she continued sputtering, her mouth hanging open slightly. She shook her head, "I tried to warn you. You can't eat those raw. They're either eaten with other, milder fruits or they're juiced and then sweetened with other fruit juices."

Luar'ka sighed, her expression calming, glancing over toward Ikthya'de, "Is it harmful?"

"No. Just very, very strong. I doubt he'd ever had anything like that before."

"I will apologize later." she said glumly, "I hope he will not be too angry."

S'iirai was about to reply when the tent door flew open and Thwei'ja stalked back in, ripping his mask off and torquing his mandibles angrily. Luar'ka wasn't sure if his impromptu rage was a good thing or a bad thing. She moved back over to the Yautja, avoiding Ikthya'de whose fuming gaze bored holes into her head. She could tell she was in for it later.

U'lla and the others returned to the pavilion and again addressed the Yautja, "So then, are you permitted to reveal the cargo of that missing shuttle?" she asked.

Luar'ka glanced back at Thwei'ja as he began to speak, his voice low and clearly unhappy. She gulped and faced forward, " ' Yes, I am. However, there is a vital stipulation. What is revealed must not be spread. The situation is very grave.' "

"Understood." U'lla said with a nod, "Proceed, Yaanya."

Luar'ka glanced over her shoulder at Thwei'ja, feeling a bead of sweat form on her brow as he spoke clearly, quietly, just loudly enough for her to hear. She turned, her face ashen, " ' The shuttle was loaded with captive Hard Meat eggs to be seeded at a chosen trial location. It was set to depart in half a season's time. The shuttle was boarded and stolen by a Yautja Bad Blood, who has now since been dealt with.' "

The Illmorein didn't appear concerned as much as curious, but U'lla's face turned grave, "I see. Continue." she said. Thwei'ja obliged and Luar'ka listened, " ' The engine of the shuttle malfunctioned and the Bad Blood ejected. The shuttle itself has been lost for over a season, now. If you have information on it, it is crucial that you reveal it.' "

"You say 'Hard Meat eggs'. Just what exactly does this mean?" U'lla asked, though her tone implied that already appeared to be aware of the ramifications of a shuttle of eggs going missing.

" ' They are living world building engines. They are capable of devouring an entire planet and its host life in a very short period. The Yautja keep many in captivity, but they are regulated carefully. Losing even one egg can be devastating to any planet.' "

"That doesn't tell me much about their physique or biology. But I will let it slide for now. What are the coordinates of the shuttle's last known location?"

Luar'ka struggled a bit with this one since numbers weren't her strong suit; " ' One hundred and seventy-nine, fifty-six, thirty-nine point four, and zero, two, and forty-six point two. This is a basic estimate. As we have lost the shuttle, we can only assume based on the direction it was going.' "

"Hmm...very well. We know nothing as of yet, but we will contact our sources for more information. However, this is quite a risky move, you realize. If humans were to hear about our connection to this shuttle and then possibly discover it, they will wonder what we of the Illmorein were doing with such an unusual specimen. This could invariably lead to their discovery of our connection to you and your kind, Yaanya. I'm sure you understand how serious this situation is, for both of us, no less?"

"Yes." Luar'ka said without guidance.

"Good. We will send a transmission with more data the second we receive it. I thank you for your time, Yaanya."

Terminology

S'iianti- (Shaun-tee) The leader or highest rank of Illmorein female council. The male prefix would be S'iianki

Khiinya- Luar'ka's given Illmorein name. Basically means 'The odd one'.

Yaanya- The Illmorein word for Yautja, as they cannot easily pronounce it. It stands for 'fearsome one'

Sorry for the late update. I've been settling back into a routine after getting home from Washington. The book is now entirely finished at over 200,000 words. The longest thing I've ever written. I'm now starting work on the sequel. I've had a lot of favorites and follows on this story and I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I hope you continue to enjoy my work.