Twenty-Four
"Is this a permanent pack?"
Luar'ka was sitting with Kar'kha in his chamber aboard the ship, learning how to properly care for and clean weapons. She used a soft piece of soft leather to rub a special oil onto the blade to prevent rust from forming. The leather also served a double purpose of protecting her hands from injury, but also sharpening the blade edges. Kar'kha was applying the same care to the more complex wrist blades on his bracer and looked up at her question, "What?"
"The four of you. And me, I suppose. Are we a permanent Hunting pack or is this just a temporary formation?"
Kar'kha rumbled deeply in thought, "I have only been Blooded for six seasons and have Hunted with Than'ja and Ikthya'de for four seasons. They have been Blooded warriors for twenty-eight seasons. Thwei'ja took over Leadership of this pack three seasons ago when our former Leader was killed on a Hunt. The formation may change, but I do not see this occurring for some time."
"I see. You have known Thwei'ja for a long time, then."
"He was Hunt Brothers with my sire. I have known of him for a long time."
"I do not believe he approves of my presence."
Kar'kha wasn't sure how to respond to this. Luar'ka was an enigma that the majority of the Clan didn't appear to approve of. They didn't seem to view her as a threat of any sort, more of a nuisance instead. It had been made more than obvious in the past that Thwei'ja clearly held this opinion. He had been under the impression that this didn't appear to bother her. He wasn't sure why her opinion would change now of all times. He'd seen her go through plenty of changes since the night he'd found her in the forest. But he had the distinct feeling that whatever he could say to her observation of Thwei'ja just wouldn't suffice the way she wanted—or needed—it to. He settled on the obvious; "Thwei'ja is very old, mei'jadhi. He is an Elite. It will not be much longer before his status as an Elder is secured. His sire will soon become known as an Ancient, or so I am told."
"An Ancient?"
"There have not been any Ancient Yautja in our Clan in many generations." Kar'kha said thoughtfully, "For Sechinde to become the first in so long a time is a great accomplishment. I would imagine that Thwei'ja will fill his place from there. However, it cannot be said that Thwei'ja disregards you. Were that the case, you would not be sitting here with me right now."
"Really." she stated, clearly disbelieving of this statement. Kar'kha chuffed in annoyance, "If he chooses, Thwei'ja will not hesitate to kill you, should you cross him."
Given her state of mind during their first few days together, Kar'kha still expected her to some extent to react with fear at such a statement. He braced for the sharp, unsettling scent of fear he expected from her.
"I would fight for my life. But I would accept his victory." Luar'ka said instead. She returned to her task, delicately and deftly cleaning the blade of the knife she held, her eyes focused and downcast. She didn't see the consternation cross through his mandibles as they pulled close to his mouth, comprehending her answer. While he was undeniably proud of her and the shift in mindset she'd begun to develop, so closely resembling their own, he simultaneously found it so strange how similar she was becoming to them. This was something he was certain no Yautja had ever seen before; a creature of another race assimilating so closely into their kind. A creature so similar to them in so many ways, but so incredibly different in others.
"Then there is nothing more to concern yourself with." he said simply. He reached over and took the knife she held, its blade now gleaming in the low light. He stood up and moved to the wall where his weapons of choice hung, patiently awaiting times of use. He replaced the blade to a small bracket and reached over to take down one of his long blades, moving back over to her and handing it to her delicately. She took it carefully, eying him curiously as she turned and began to clean the blade as she had done for the small knife. Watching her, Kar'kha considered her statements made to him, his head dipping as he realized he'd been unable to truly answer any of them. He didn't know the answers. There were occasionally times when he fell prey to that unstable thinking of the Youngblood Yautja. He was fortunate in one sense; his brothers, supportive as they could be, were brutal when it came to shaping his way of thinking. Many Youngbloods spent their first few decades after Blooding believing that they'd already experienced all there was to see. They were dangerous, hot-blooded and vicious. It took many fights, many grievous injuries, many blows to the honor and the pride to finally calm them down, make them see reason. Kar'kha was one of the few Youngbloods in his generation who never had much of an aggressive stage. He had his brothers to thank for this, having been trained alongside them when he was young, helping to shape his personality. He'd still been an Unblood when they took their Chiva and returned as Blooded warriors. But even so, he knew that he was still far too young, far too inexperienced, and now, having an apprentice underfoot served as a daily reminder of how pathetically naïve he still was as a young Yautja. This part he owed to Luar'ka as she forced him to answer questions she had about the new life he'd practically dragged her into. If there had ever been a time when he understood how desperately he needed to grow and learn more, it was now.
Most of all, he didn't fully understand her. And he wondered if this could ever change.
/ooo/
Between training sessions with her brothers and self-training sessions to strengthen her wings, Luar'ka waited patiently. Day by day traveling through space, she counted the hours carefully. Sitting in her room, she repaired the hide straps of her loincloth, fluffing her feathers in and out while she worked and using the time and the activity to sort out her thoughts. She swished her tail unconsciously, feeling the dull ache its growing pains produced as it slowly lengthened. Every year, she'd gain a few inches on her tail until she was fully grown and it reached its final length of about six feet, the typical length for Avian tails. It was already improving her balance drastically when she walked and she found she moved more quietly now than she had before.
She paused when she heard snarling at the far end of the corridor, toward the cargo area and armory. The main hatchway was located here, as well as the operating station for the air filters that kept the Yautjan occupants comfortable. Curious, she replaced her loincloth about her waist, fastening the ties, and stood up, moving toward the door. She stepped out, following the sounds of the growls as she moved into the gloomy hallway, making her way slowly and carefully toward the main entryway. She approached warily, peering into the wide, circular room. The decorated pillars stood dark in the gloom and she approached one as she stepped inside the wide space. She found the source of the growls; Ikthya'de was sparring with Than'ja, taking advantage of the wide area to move quickly around one another, looking for openings without risking too much damage to either themselves or the equipment close by. Thwei'ja kept his various trophies in this room, since the ship did in fact belong to him. The twins were careful to avoid that wall as they scuffled, each trying to pin the other in some fashion and grappling to get in a good hit. Luar'ka stood off to the side and watched, studying their movements. She recalled what Ikthya'de had told her about her speed and agility being her greatest weapons. She knew she could never match up to the Yautja in strength. There was just no way. But she would soon be faster than even the kainde amedha, and the Yautja, while quick, were not built to be fast like she was. A single hit would bring her down and most likely end a fight right then and there, but her opponent would have to catch her, first.
Ikthya'de ducked to avoid a swipe from his brother and used his momentum to grab onto Than'ja, knocking him back off his feet and hurtling him to the ground with a sickening thud. The mist, at its heaviest in this room to account for the main exit, scattered in enormous puffs as Than'ja went down with a clicking snarl of frustration.
Ikthya'de chose then to acknowledge her presence, looking over at her with a wide smirk etched across his mandibles. It made him look both comical and disturbing all at once. He was clearly a bit of a show off and seemed to take great satisfaction in her having witnessed his victory over his older brother. Luar'ka returned the gesture with a flash of her teeth and chuckled, moving forward, "Good match," she said, "How about letting me take part?"
"Grow another head taller and we will see." Ikthya'de teased, shoving her playfully. Knowing she couldn't match his strength, she elbowed him sharply in the gut, making him grunt briefly. It didn't hurt him of course, but it was enough for him to feel.
Than'ja heaved himself to his feet, his mandibles tucked close against his face as he chuffed lightly, "I was careless." he said.
"That is certainly a surprise," Ikthya'de quipped, "Perhaps I am getting better."
"Or I am becoming clumsier." Than'ja grumbled, "Perhaps Thwei'ja was right. I should devote more time to training when I can."
Luar'ka snarled softly, earning their attention down to her, "If you would consider me a fit sparring partner, I could assist you with that endeavor." she snapped, eying him angrily. She flashed her teeth again to show her irritation. On reflex to her shifting mood toward aggression, Than'ja began to purr softly and Luar'ka was forced to let her anger fizzle. She sighed, "Stop it." she growled. She'd noticed they'd begun to do that around her more frequently. It was almost the same as the ways they moved carefully around Yautja females. Perhaps they were showing caution around her due to her status as a developing female simply through instinct telling them to do so. She wondered if that would last and wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"You are too small to spar efficiently as yet." Than'ja told her, "Even Younglings your size are forbidden from the kehrite until they have grown."
"I am no Youngling."
"Youngsters of similar age still hold residence with their bearers, Mei'jadhi." he reminded her sternly, "You are still a Youngling."
"But my kind grows much faster than yours." she protested, "I will be fully grown in three cycles' time."
"And we shall see when that time comes."
The brothers moved past her and Luar'ka clenched her fists angrily. On one hand, she appreciated being treated the same as any Yautjan youngster by her brothers, meaning they held enough respect for her to do so. But on the other hand, she knew she was more than capable of holding her own in a spar, and against a grown adult no less. In any event, she knew that it was something she'd eventually have to face, especially with the constant threat of Warkha stalking her every opportunity he got. Her confrontation with him on Illmianyar hadn't left her mind. It was the fuel for what drove her to do what she prepared herself to do. She flared her feathers, whirled and sprinted over to Ikthya'de, jumping up on his back and punching him hard on the shoulder, making him jolt and snarl in surprise. She jumped back down, stepping away from him as he and Than'ja turned, eying her with a combination of bewilderment, confusion, and admiration. Ikthya'de looked over at his twin and the two of them exchanged hushed clicks of discussion for a moment. Their gazes refocused on their adoptive sister, who stood with her legs slightly spread apart, her tail held aloft and her arms held defensively at her sides, her posture hunched just as she'd been taught. She eyed them fiercely from beneath her feathers, baring her teeth at them.
A clear, indisputable challenge.
Ikthya'de stamped forward, flaring his mandibles widely and roared viciously at her. He had accepted her challenge. He took up a defensive stance and eyed her, judging to see whether or not she'd take the first move. Luar'ka grinned at him and watched in satisfaction as the stiff spines along his forehead rose upright in reflex to her gesture. She already had a plan.
She shrieked and dove to the side, vanishing into the thick mists coagulating along the floor. She heard Ikthya'de snort in surprise at her actions. Luar'ka was small enough and light enough that to move beneath the mist gave her a good cover without shifting too heavily and the mist served to hide her heat signature. She would never be strong enough to spar head on with a Yautja, so it was now time to practice her stealth. She moved swiftly through the mist, passing Than'ja as she did. As she expected, he noticed her, but didn't move. Beyond the soft snort he made as he caught her scent, he made no sign of his knowledge of her whereabouts, nor any intent to alert his brother, now searching carefully along the floor. Luar'ka heard Ikthya'de scenting the air, seeking her out with his other finely tuned senses. Luar'ka crouched in the mist off to his side, watching him carefully as he followed her scent. Luar'ka yanked out a small handful of lingering down from her head and dropped it to the floor, moving off away from it and around her brother as he unknowingly followed the scent of the down. She did this a few times, leaving two or three false scent trails around the room with her feathers, coated in natural oils secreted through her skin to keep them clean. When she heard him snarl angrily under his breath, she knew her ruse was working. The mist was warm and hid her body heat from his piercing gaze. She'd learned to move as silently as they did, understanding that with her size being her biggest disadvantage, that patience was her friend. However, she knew it wouldn't be long before he picked out the strongest scent trail and traced it to her as she braced nearby the trophy wall. She crept away from it, slinking up beside her brother as he searched. He detected her at the last second as she launched herself out of the mist and onto his side, clamping her jaws down over his arm as he brought it up to defend his exposed neck. Her teeth sank deep and she shrieked as he reached out to grab her, jabbing his claws down into her shoulder and ripping her off of him. He hurled her across the room with a snarl and she twisted in midair and met the wall with her strong feet and legs, pushing off and landing on all fours on the floor. She let out a low, clicking rumble eerily similar to theirs as she skirted quickly around the room, taking full advantage of her size as Ikthya'de growled warningly, once again forced to painstakingly search for her. Luar'ka matched his movements, her eyes narrowing as she watched him carefully. The second his back turned, she charged forward, moving near soundlessly as she leaped onto his back and grabbed a fistful of his tendrils as he veered backward and snarled viciously at her. But it was too late. Before he could grab her, she lunged forward and clamped her jaws down around the soft underside of his neck, digging her talons into his back for support as she did so. Ikthya'de huffed drily, his arms dropping to his sides as a low rumble escaped him.
"I yield." he grumbled. It was only a spar, but she'd compromised one of his critical points. Had this been a real fight, and had she been a little older with fully erupted adult teeth, she could have easily torn his throat out. Instead, she'd only pressed the tips of her teeth against his skin, enough to tell him of their dangerous presence, but not enough to cause harm.
Luar'ka was about to pull away when Ikthya'de suddenly grabbed her by her tail, holding her screeching and writhing form aloft as he leered at her, "Good match. However, you will not always have the privilege of cover. Remember this."
Even through the defiant glare on her face, he watched as she considered his words and nodded in resolution. He dropped her and moved off to join his brother, standing at the edge of the corridor. Luar'ka hurried forward to join them, walking behind them as they made their way further into the ship. Than'ja glanced back at her, "That was quite foolish, Mei'jadhi." he admonished, "You are not fully grown. To challenge an adult Yautja is unwise."
Luar'ka hummed softly, "I am aware. He got my hackles up." she said.
"Irrelevant." Than'ja said, "Go and assist Ikthya'de with the equipment. It is not much longer before we arrive."
"Yes, Than'ja." she said.
She stood with Ikthya'de while the eldest brother moved off down the corridor, vanishing into one of the other chambers. She sighed, "I suppose that was a bit reckless." she admitted.
"It was." he agreed, "Be grateful that it was only I whom you decided to challenge. You are not skilled enough to fight a true battle."
"Then why did you agree to fight me?"
He didn't answer her as he led her into the armory in a small, circular room off of the main entryway, shutting the door behind them. The light was very low in this room and Luar'ka watched his form as he slowly moved into the center. He froze, standing by the racks holding each of their masks. Luar'ka watched him carefully, feeling her feathers raise from caution as his scent suddenly changed. However, she couldn't tell what this new scent meant.
A deep growl reverberated from him suddenly and he whirled around, moving faster than she was prepared for. He snatched her throat, slamming her back against the wall behind her and cutting off her trachea, preventing her from making any noise. She started to flail angrily, trying to slash at him with her claws, but he pressed himself in close to her, pinning her legs' movement and grabbed her other wrist with his free hand, twisting it painfully. His grip around her throat loosened just enough to allow her to breathe, but not enough to release her. She opened her eyes and shuddered in fear at his face as he leaned down above her, flaring his mandibles with a snarl, revealing his sharp teeth. Different as they were from the faces she'd grown up with back on Earth, the faces of the Yautja never really bothered her too much. However, she was readily able and willing to admit that they could be absolutely terrifying when they wanted to be and for the first time, she found herself genuinely afraid of Ikthya'de. Normally so laid back, calm and grounded, this was a side of him she'd foolishly allowed herself to forget existed. Than'ja had told her stories of his ferocity hidden beneath his somewhat careless exterior, but she'd never fully believed it. Now, she did. The look in his eyes was venomous and she felt her blood run cold in terror. As he drew ever nearer, his pointed tusks grazing roughly against her face, leaving angry, stinging scratches in their wake, she instinctively pulled her head back away from his, a task made difficult by his iron grip on her neck and his claws pricking through her skin, drawing blood. Unprepared and unsure what he was doing, Luar'ka slipped and allowed herself to feel afraid, her heart pounding viciously in her chest. When he caught the scent of her fear spiking, he let out a deafening roar and closed his fist around her neck, cutting off her air. Having already had little air in her lungs from her fear, Luar'ka quickly blacked out and fell limp in his grasp.
When she awoke again, she was lying on her side on the floor of the armory. She felt light-headed and dizzy, and her heart continued to throb painfully in her chest. Groaning, she raised her head and quickly noticed Ikthya'de sitting quietly behind her, legs crossed and back slightly hunched over. He watched her silently, his breathing so light it could barely be heard. When she moaned and tried to sit up, he chuffed slightly and reached out to offer his arm for support. Unable to balance, she braced herself against his arm and worked herself into a sitting position in front of him. He drew his arm back and blinked slowly, ticking his mandibles together thoughtfully. She didn't speak or look at him for several minutes, and when she finally brought herself to meet his gaze, she felt severe shame wash over her. She didn't need to ask why he'd attacked her so viciously. The meaning was obvious and she knew it.
"Forgive me..." she mumbled, bowing her head submissively, "I was foolish."
"Yes, you were." he agreed stonily, "However, it cannot be said that the fault is entirely yours, Gyun'r Mei'jadhi. The blame falls partially on myself and Than'ja and Kar'kha."
"How can I expect to live among your kind when I allow myself to forget what you are?" she whispered, "I am little more than prey in your eyes. I cannot change this."
"This is not entirely true. You have proven your worth in many ventures, Luar'ka. You must never forget what the Yautja are and what many believe you to be. My hope is that my demonstration has solidified this within your mind."
Her mind flashed back to shortly before when she'd felt so entirely afraid of him as he boxed her in and looked at her with such violence and predatory malice. She swallowed thickly, "I believe it has. May I ask you a question, mei'hswei?"
He purred in response and she looked away, "Of the Yautja aboard this ship, even above Kar'kha, you not only tolerate my presence, but you seem avidly interested in my survival and my knowledge. You showed this early on. Why?"
She was starting to grasp that the three brothers were very eccentric in their acceptance of her, though they showed it in varying ways. She was also starting to see how abnormal it was to accept a creature like her, something meant to be prey being treated as one who could one day be equal. Ikthya'de rumbled softly, his head tilting slightly as he considered his answer, "I am fascinated by you, mei'jadhi," he replied, "You are a living relic of bygone times in our history. You are so very different from us in many ways, but so very alike. There is no proper way to describe it. Many of my brethren would disagree with me and consider you little more than prey. As for the three of us, you may or may not be aware. Than'ja, Kar'kha and myself were all trained by Me'vi-te personally, and our sire has gained a reputation for being quite odd in his ways."
"I believe I may have heard that," she said, "But I do not believe I know why."
"We were once three of roughly twenty pups sired by Me'vi-te over the many seasons of his life. However, the Paya have not blessed his bloodline. All but the three of us and two female offspring have met Cetanu. He attributed this misfortune to poor training and made up his mind to train future pups himself. Me'vi-te is...odd by Yautjan standards. His methods are as effective as they are abnormal. Than'ja and I were taught by him to appreciate our prey as much as the Hunt itself. For there would be no Hunt without the prey and our chosen targets deserve our respect."
"I see...so this is why the three of you accepted me. You were all different from the very start. I was fortunate, I guess." she muttered, "And what about Thwei'ja? Why does he accept me even though he despises me?"
"He does not deem you worth the effort to kill." Ikthya'de said with a shrug. Luar'ka scoffed at this and looked away, hissing in pain as she did so. She reached up to feel gently around her neck. Her skin was sensitive and hot to the touch. She could tell he'd bruised her badly when he'd strangled her. There was dried blood caked to her skin as well from where his claws had pierced her. She sighed, "Please save me the trouble of explaining these to Than'ja, will you?" she asked. She flopped down on her back, spreading her wings out beneath her.
"He knows," Ikthya'de explained, "I informed him that I would be the one to demonstrate your blindness to you. He will expect your injuries."
"So it was either you or Than'ja to teach me this lesson? Well, thank you both for refraining from overwhelming me, then." she grumbled, "When do we arrive?"
Ikthya'de bristled at the abrupt change of subject and flared his lower mandibles in irritation, "By the next rotation, we will begin atmospheric entry."
"And where are we due to touch down?"
"Our ordained coordinates are confined in the northern hemisphere, near where we found you, actually. The highest concentration of kainde amedha was centralized in that area. We are going to Hunt down the nest and exterminate it."
Her eyes narrowed, "Will I be permitted to take part in the Hunt?"
Ikthya'de regarded her silently a moment, his tusks ticking together in thought as the pupils in his eyes deflated. He rumbled deeply, "Perhaps. You would not be permitted within the nest itself, however I believe it would be no problem for you to accompany the Hunt. There will be two other scouting groups working in tandem with us. They were already in the area and have most likely arrived already."
Luar'ka went silent for a while, staring at the ceiling, "I see. I look forward to the Hunt, mei'hswei." she mumbled.
Ikthya'de caught the dark undertone in her voice, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes in suspicion. However, he said nothing on the matter.
"Return to your chamber, for now." he instructed her, "Wait until further notice."
Luar'ka got to her feet, moving soundlessly toward the door. She glanced back at Ikthya'de one more time, a dubious and somewhat confused look on her face as she did. As she expected, he showed no outward emotion or thought on his expressionless face, beyond his mandibles tucked close against his mouth. And as she expected, her own expressions had no impact on whatever his thoughts were.
She'd long since gotten used to it.
Ikthya'de watched her leave, still seated on the floor. The smell of her blood still hung in the air, and the claws on his right hand were bathed in the scent. Memories of his talks with Than'ja over the delicate nature of her body returned to his mind and he recalled how absurdly light she felt in his grasp, as if she might break with even the slightest touch. The thought made him uncomfortable, tearing him between his two mindsets of Hunting and studying. Despite his fondness for her, some part of his brain was still hardwired to view her as prey and he fought this thought process every day, reminding himself that she was much more than mere prey. Even so, he also reminded himself that she had needed to learn the severe misjudgment she'd made. Any other Yautja would have snapped her neck. The sheer force of will and control he'd employed to overpower his instincts and simply bruise her fragile neck had nearly drained him. He'd learned something from this whole incident as well.
Luar'ka was more fragile than he'd ever believed.
/ooo/
It was easy to comprehend how much she still needed to learn. She contemplated this and other facts as she sat in her room on her fur pallet, eyes closed, back pressed against the cool metal of the ship, her mind deep in meditation. While learning the skills of the Hunt and the life of the Yautja, Luar'ka learned that her mind needed to be kept clear and focused at all times. However, in order to maintain this delicate balance, she also had to learn to periodically shut her mind off. This was actually even harder. She focused on her breathing, on grounding every square inch of her body and relaxing her form, submitting to the calm and the peace within her mind. She'd initially found it difficult to believe, but the Yautja practiced similar meditation techniques to clear their own minds, mostly limited to the sparse free time they found in between daily tasks and the Hunt. In the last few months, she'd practiced with Than'ja once he'd wound down his work for the day. Now, she meditated alone, thinking on her brief altercation with Ikthya'de and contemplating her mistakes. He had been entirely correct in attacking her. She'd foolishly allowed herself to slip and feel at ease around them. No matter how friendly they could be toward her, or how open to her questions and eager to give answers, no matter how they appeared to accept her, she could never be allowed to forget. They were predators of higher status to her prey birthright, a birthright she was confident she would one day shirk free of. She too was a predator in her own right and naturally surpassed the Yautja in many aspects. But while still so young, she was intensely vulnerable. Her focus could never be dropped, even while she slept.
She took this opportunity now to drift into a light sleep, curled up on her ragged fur pallet and feeling the vibrations of the engine through the hull of the ship. She thumped her tail softly against the floor in thought, eyed half-shut as she allowed her mind to drift, while still keeping her focus on the atmosphere around her. She instantly awoke when the door slid open and one of the others came in, moving completely noiselessly. She remained perfectly still, watching as Thwei'ja rummaged through the storage containers holding his discarded gear and weapons. In the darkness, it was difficult to see him properly at first, but Luar'ka's eyes adjusted swiftly and she watched him silently. Her head raised, causing him to pause and glance over toward her. He didn't spare a second look as he returned to his task, pulling out a broken bracer. Luar'ka knew that Thwei'ja would probably notice that she'd been rummaging through the assorted equipment. However, aside from examining it, she'd left it all alone. She realized he had come to see this when his head raised and his lower mandibles loosened from his face slightly, a low growl emanating from his chest. Luar'ka lowered her head, averting her eyes in clear submission. While she was still so young and small, this was her best defense against angered adult Yautja, especially those who already disliked her greatly. Thwei'ja, his irritation mollified, straightened up, the bracer clutched in his hand as he turned away, leaving as silently as he'd appeared. Luar'ka waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before getting to her feet, padding silently out into the corridor. She could hear nothing, only the soft rumbles of the engine, deceptively silent despite its tremendous power.
She felt restless. She wanted to move, wanted to run, to do anything to ease the growing anxiety. This wasn't fear, this was anticipation. She had often seen the Unbloods in the kehrite enduring similar duress and she knew there was little to be done for it. The only thing she could do was simply remain as patient as possible. And even that wasn't enough.
Thwei'ja was very irritable right now. To wander the ship and risk running into him guaranteed injury of some kind and he was strong enough to kill her without even trying. Luar'ka knew she had no choice right then but to return to her chamber in the storeroom and wait until atmospheric descent.
She settled back onto her pallet and laid down with a sigh, curling her tail up in front of her face as she closed her eyes.
It seemed they'd only been closed for but a moment when she suddenly snapped awake. Nightmare? Something wrong? No. Something felt different. The ship's engines had suddenly grown louder. She scrambled to a kneeling position, her legs bent back beneath her as she turned groggily to the window. Her eyes struggling to adjust as she was suddenly bombarded with light, she ground her teeth in discomfort, shielding her eyes from the light of the nearby star and squinting out the portal.
She inhaled sharply in surprise before calming. It was like a repeat of when she was taken away from the earth the year before. She held her hand up to the portal, watching as the ship was steered toward the planet. But this time, she wasn't content with sitting and watching, nor was she a prisoner amidst the Yautja. Nerves and Thwei'ja be damned by Cetanu, Luar'ka shot to her feet and bolted to the door. She opened it and proceeded quickly to the cockpit. The males were already assembled and at their stations. Luar'ka felt her heart pounding in trepidation as she moved inside the cockpit, her light footsteps gaining their attention. Ikthya'de and Than'ja both looked up, but said nothing. Kar'kha stared at her intently, as if gauging her movements. Thwei'ja turned from his place at command and his eyes darkened. His mandibles loosened slowly and flared widely as his snarl deepened, baring his frighteningly sharp teeth at her as he stood and faced her. Luar'ka bared her own teeth defiantly, but kept her head down as she stepped back slightly. She was submitting to his clear dominance, but was unwilling to back down entirely. She knew her place and was entirely willing to fight to remain in that place. As a part of this pack, she had a right to watch the landing and she wasn't going to let Thwei'ja bully her out of this miniscule right. Her head bowed, her feathers drooped, she maintained as much respect as she could before this intimidating, powerful Yautja, easily angered and likely more than willing to snap her neck if she stepped out of line. However, even with this show of defiance, she maintained her position as the least of them. Thwei'ja saw this. The resulting pause felt far longer than it was. He stared her down, his tusks ticking together absently.
His mandibles tucked back against his face and his bunched muscles relaxed slightly as he turned back to the controls, casting her from his mind for the time being. Luar'ka relaxed, straightening up as she glanced at Ikthya'de, watching her quietly from his position. After a pointed look, he turned away, focusing on his task. Luar'ka said nothing, moving over to the portal to watch as the earth drew closer and closer. The magnificent planet spun silently in the black void that had become her home and she saw the sparkling, shimmering hue that was the atmosphere. They came in at a shallow angle, the ship began to rattle and shake viciously as they entered the atmosphere of earth. Luar'ka watched with disinterest as the flames engulfed the ship, the burning white hot light illuminating her face and feathers. Her tail swished lazily behind her as she stared out into the furious energy surrounding them. When they finally broke through, the speed of the ship reduced dramatically and the engines roared as they rocketed through the sky. Luar'ka just stared out the portal, oblivious of Kar'kha's silent observation of her.
Miles were eaten up in no time as they sped across the sky, crossing the inland sea in a very short time indeed. A coastline appeared, flanked near the water by lush, vibrant trees and rainforest that quickly gave way to arid, dusty desert. The ship lost altitude and speed as it drew nearer to the surface of the earth and a thick wave of crackling blue static swept over the ship as the cloak was activated. Luar'ka continued to watch, keeping an eye out for what she knew she would see from this side of the shuttle. Before long, the great sandstone spire came into view, far off in the distance. They appeared to be landing much further from it than before, but she kept track of its basic position, watching as the ship angled sharply and swung around, veering swiftly toward a clearing amidst a dense outcropping of dry, dead trees on the outskirts of the desert. Luar'ka's stomach jumped at the sudden shift in momentum as they came to a jarring, but gentle halt in the air and hovered for a moment before lowering to the ground. For the first time in many, many rotations, the engines went silent and the ship was still. Luar'ka tore herself away from the portal as her brothers prepared to gear up and head out. They already knew the details of the mission. There was a nest in this area that needed to be eliminated. Luar'ka checked the straps on her shoulder plates and turned, following Ikthya'de to the armory. He was finishing up strapping on his chest plates and glanced down at her as she approached. He checked to make sure her shoulder plates were fully secured before taking his helmet down from the rack. Than'ja appeared to be suiting up as well, and Kar'kha was finishing up nearby, fixing his mask to his face and connecting the hoses to his filtration system attached to the mounted pack on his back. The plasmaburner on his shoulder swiveled back and forth as he manipulated the controls inside the mask with his tusks, testing their functionality.
Luar'ka looked up as Than'ja approached her and handed her a short bladed knife in a holster. She took it confidently and strapped it to her thigh for easy access.
Thwei'ja approached them, dressed in much more worn and weathered armor than the brothers. His armor had as many dents, nicks, and scrapes as his body had scars. It was clear by this point though, that he took as much pride in his aged armor as he did his many trophies and injuries. He carried a combistick strapped to his back beneath the fuel pack for his burner, as well as what appeared to be a net gun attached to his right bracer. His rank and advanced age allowed for more complex and powerful weaponry than that of the brothers, who carried their wrist bracers and burners only. The brothers immediately paid him their attention as he stood before them.
"Our reports show that the nest is miniscule as yet. Whether or not a queen is present is unclear. We are to completely clean out whatever is currently present within the nest."
"Are we certain of its location?" Than'ja asked.
"As yet, no. Seek it out and eliminate it. It is small enough. This will be simple."
He turned sharply, glaring down at Luar'ka, "You are to remain here." he ordered sharply.
Luar'ka didn't flinch, staring up at him without meeting his gaze. Her fists clenched and her feathers raised, but she bit her tongue and held back her arguments. However, her feathers flared in an unconscious reflex she wasn't entirely aware of until it was too late. Already on edge and keyed up for the Hunt, Thwei'ja's aggressiveness spiked. He snarled and lashed out viciously at her for the second show of defiance. The blow struck her dead in the center of her sternum, knocking her violently against the hull of the ship, cracking the back of her head against the metal interior. She sagged to the floor, grinding her teeth together in an effort not to make any exclamations of pain as stars exploded in her vision. She staggered upright, her knees shaky, her head and body bowed forward. Thwei'ja, growling furiously, his fists clenched, addressed her with finality; "Remain on the ship, Endling. Obey my order and submit!" he thundered.
Luar'ka could feel the blood dribbling through her feathers from the shallow gash the blow had opened up. Her lungs heaved from the strike and she had difficulty drawing enough air to answer him. Gasping, her words came out as raspy croaks; "Egh...sub...it..." she eked out. Now was not the time to test him. He was already close to his limit on patience.
The brothers stood by and watched, unable to intervene. Of all of them, Ikthya'de seemed the most calm as he observed this scene. He cast a glance at Kar'kha, visibly shaking with the effort it took to contain his anger at the treatment of the creature that was supposed to be his apprentice. The middle brother shifted his gaze back and forth between them. He suppressed the urge to chuff in dismay at Kar'kha's regression. He was beginning to revert to the tendencies of a fresh Youngblood. As for Luar'ka, this was simply something she'd have to adjust to. She was fortunate that even through an adrenaline fueled Hunting haze, Thwei'ja still possessed enough focus of mind to adjust the amount of force he used to admonish her. A Youngblood Yautja would have simply staggered at the strength of that blow, enough to send the Avian female hurtling against the wall. The fact that he'd refrained from killing her proved his willingness to accept the change forced upon his pack, whether he liked it or not.
Thwei'ja huffed deeply and turned away from the incapacitated juvenile, opening the hatch doors and lowering the ramp. He stalked outside without another word. The brothers followed him, none of them sparing the Avian a second glance. She straightened up, standing as erect as possible as she watched them leave and then turned to activate the door again, shutting it behind them. She heard the static crackling across the surface of the ship as Thwei'ja activated the cloak from the outside through his bracer. Then, she was left in the silence, without even the dull roar of the engine to keep her company.
She felt rage. She felt humiliation. She felt...shame. The foremost of the torrent of emotions crashing through her, shame led high and mighty above them all. She'd pushed her limits and she'd paid for it. Her head still swam from the strike and her breath continued to come in erratic gasps. She moaned, staggering toward the medical station where Than'ja kept his supplies. She needed to make sure that the gash on her head was manageable and wouldn't become infected. She found a med kit in one of the compartments he kept in order in his chambers and opened it up. Reaching back, she touched a finger to the wound and came away with a fairly ominous amount of red blood shining on her fingers. She sighed and picked up a small flexible pack containing a cleansing agent for disinfection, crushing it between her fingers and smearing it along the back of her head, over the open wound. Then, just as Than'ja had meticulously taught her, she opened a container of the silver liquid used on her the season before by Me'vi-te after her fight with the Bad Blood. She picked up a clean syringe and filled it, pulling the injector back until it was three quarters of the way full. She flicked the bubbles free and reached back, feeling around until she found the center of the gash, jabbing the needle in and hissing shrilly as she injected the silver fluid straight into the wound. An icy cold, numbing sensation spread through the back of her scalp, accented by a short, stinging pain. She groaned and sat back against the wall, eyes shut as she felt the healing agent go to work. It wasn't as potent as some of the other medicines the Yautja used, and the more potent they were, the more painful they became. Than'ja explained that it was designed this way. Healing was important while on a Hunt, since dying at the hands or claws of unworthy prey was highly dishonorable. However, if a Yautja was careless enough to receive injury from such prey, then he deserved punishment for this carelessness. The healing agents would cleanse and seal all wounds, but the pain it inflicted was agonizing. Suitable punishment, enough to make the Hunter think twice about rushing into dangerous altercations with prey.
Luar'ka knew that the disinfectant and sealant would suffice for now, allowing her body to heal somewhat naturally whilst preventing bacteria from taking root. She cleaned the supplies she'd used and stored them back into the med kit, returning it to its place.
Her eyes narrowed as she moved back toward the storeroom, walking slowly and taking careful attention of every detail of the corridor as she proceeded down it. It was odd how she'd never really paid it much attention during her stay the year before. The ship, old as it was, was beautifully made and ornate, with many thousands of marks carved into the walls, perhaps signifying some event or time line in the extensive history of the Yautja. Luar'ka sighed, opening the door of the storeroom as she headed to her pallet, lowering herself to the ground. She hesitated briefly, her feathers quivering.
She reached out and grabbed the med kit Than'ja had presented to her upon their first meeting, attaching it to the thin belt about her waist keeping her loincloth secured in place. She restrained it carefully behind her and then stood up, moving around the room. The vast majority of gear in here had gone unnoticed during her entire stay, further cementing the idea that Thwei'ja simply didn't know or else didn't care when something was too broken to fix. She picked up her small, leather satchel with a sizable hole in the bottom corner of it. The day before, she'd forgone her rations, hiding them beneath her bed pallet where the smell of the fur would mask the scent of the meat. She stuck these few strips of dried meat inside of the satchel, arranging them carefully so they didn't slip out the hole. She also placed a small naxa fruit inside and shut it, attaching it to her belt alongside the med kit. She pulled out an old, faded knife, its tip sheared away, rendering it somewhat dull. She used some binding cord she found to strap it to her other thigh. She checked the straps on her armor, tightening them for good measure as she stood up. She headed out into the main corridor, heading for the entryway. She approached the main control panel and opened the hatch leading outside. Then, after waiting a few moments to make sure that the pack was nowhere close enough to hear this, she activated the controls again and set the hatch to shut. She bolted forward and tore through the rapidly closing door before it snapped closed, sealing itself shut once more.
Luar'ka crouched outside, scooting back near the ship, still cautious. If Thwei'ja had heard this, she knew she'd be in serious trouble, perhaps even in danger. But none of this mattered to her as much as it had before.
There was no sign of the pack anywhere, though she could smell which direction they'd gone. They'd headed southwest, which worked perfectly for her. Luar'ka took a few cautious steps forward, casting one lingering glance back at the ship. She felt a little saddened by this course of action, but she knew it had to be done. She hadn't truly been interested in joining the Hunt, anyway. And besides, she would've had problems deserting the pack if they'd been close enough to see her attempts. This only made the process easier.
She was fully aware of what became of Yautja who deserted their Clans for one reason or another. With very scarce exceptions, they were labeled as Bad Bloods, just like the Yautja she'd faced on Illmianyar. She honestly wasn't sure what label her actions would grant her since she wasn't Yautja, but as she turned and bolted off into the trees in a northern direction, she knew that her actions now were irreversible and would most likely end in her death. She'd lost the option of turning back the moment she stepped outside the ship of her own accord.
Far behind her, but not so far that she felt safe, she heard a deep bellow reverberate across the landscape. She recognized it as Kar'kha's. She growled deeply to herself and picked up the pace, slowly widening the gap between herself and her packmates.
A/N: The book is very close to being finished. I've been trying to work as much as I can on the sequel, but I keep running into snags. Anyway, leave me review and tell me what you think.