Note: I know many of you want me to go back to the easy-going protagonist. I will, but not in this chapter. I just think that there is a lot of emotional turmoil that needs to be explored. So in order for Jo to find some kind of purchase she needs to sulk a bit and get there. As I said I write for my own amusement, so brooding is not my intention for the long run. Also I am going on vacation so the next chapter might come very late. I just won't have a computer available.
Chapter 16: Living 101
The ooman's breathing was shallow, slow and robotic. Jo was neither asleep nor unconscious. Her eyes were open but absent in focus. In many ways, she seemed as if locked in a sleep-like state, oblivious to her surroundings. The irises contracted to the light and sometimes followed motion. She did not speak, made no connection with others. Her body was rigid.
She arrived unconscious and bloody. She was undernourished, had a fever resulting from an infection and some bodily injuries, but Med'maru would not consider them life-threatening.
"I believe her physical state has contributed to her current one, but there has been no evident direct cause of her condition to be determined in physical examination. She does not eat, groom, move or initiate any social behaviors." Med'maru recited the condition the ooman found herself in to the honored warrior tasked with the responsibility of guardianship.
"Perhaps she is meditating." Yin'thar accompanying Setg'syra provided from the distance. He adorned his ki'cti-pa. It was evidence the warriors were sparing at the time of his calling and by Yin'thar's appearance, to which he did not complain, Setg'syra's anger found a temporary outlet. Med'maru believed there is no need to see the guardian until information gathered was sufficient and complete. He also kept the pyode amedha isolated to ascertain that the infection she is carrying is not contagious.
"Perhaps. However, the brain activity would not suggest so. I have seen many things as a medic. Yautja dream, lose consciousness, forget and regain memory. It is as if her body is here, but as if a fragment is missing; As if she is locked inside."
"You have attempted to wake her"
"Sei-i. In many ways. We have talked, made laud noises, threatened. We tried even slight pain. To that the nerves reacted, but Jo has not stirred" The great mystery of Pyode Amedha condition he has studied before, but never allowed to see play out.
"Is it like with the f'ret'sak that goes into a sleep to restore its body? Preserve its strength?" Setg'syra hopefully questioned.
"I do not think so. There are no increased benefits in healing. In contrary if she does not start eating she will not survive."
"She does not consume nutrients?" The warrior's fist clenched and the medic recognized that Yin'thar might have to return to the sparring circle to once again quench Setg'syra's rage. Yin'thar was one of his closest brothers and the honor of his mei'hswei was a component of brotherhood rarely shared among warriors and highly esteemed when in existence. Yin'thar will not allow Setg'syra to vent the energy in a way that would risk status.
"The infection is passing, the wounds are healing, but her spirit and mind are absent. We have been injecting serums into her body to help the healing, assist in recovery. I have seen this state on a pyode amedha once. I suppose it is connected to fear or maybe captivity. It is most definitely not purely physiological."
"What happened to the pyode amedha?"
"Did not survive." Setg'syra release a warning growl and Med'maru quickly added "But it was not the blankness that deprived its life"
"What is this nutrient?" Appeased slightly Setg'syra questioned further. His curiosity was a welcome change from his often disinterested attitude. Perhaps the pyode amedha has served her purpose.
"Yautja made. It is new in discovery. It will proliferate her physical development. It will help her rebuild her body. If she rouses we will only find out how it might change her. It is not a mutative concoction. It will just increase performance of the current organs and functions."
"What from now?"
"After her body restores to the level it was at, we will decide depending on her mental capacity. If she does not return from her state of suspension, we might have to allow body follow the spirit. It is dishonorable to keep the ooman's form forcefully living without senses." In the yautja culture body and mind was one. It did not occur to isolate them and therefore, it would have been a disservice and transgression to allow for the useless existence. In any circumstance, the ability to disconnect from the surrounding environment was remarkable. For yautja such ability was of no use, but for a prey species it might have appliance.
Med'maru wondered if the capacity is self-inflicted or random. Self-inflicted would be cowardly, fortuitous a handicap. For yautja it would be unacceptable either way. A worrier cannot allow a disconnection from body, in which manner he can be overpowered by a prey or fall victim to a weakness. If a lower ranking yautja had such disposition it would make him or her, an unworkable element of society and hence a parasite. But for a medic and scientist it was also fascinating.
She was rendered near catatonic, refused to respond and sheltered away, cowered in a corner of her mind. Usually when the part that was scared hid the lighthearted, jesting Jo came out. She was more useful, better at coping. But that Jo was angry, disappointed, and non-responsive, on lock-down. The unserviceable portion surfaced and blanked out.
She didn't know how long it lasted. It might have been an hour, day, week, or month. She did not dream or experienced the passage of time. There was nothing. No smell, sound, sight, taste, awareness; blank non-existence of the wondering mind.
The first element that reached hers senses was a snapping sound. Snap…sling…snap…stop and then again. The world came into view; the space void of color, laboratory in design. She was here before when she arrived for the first time. It was the little room she found herself in when she first arrived. Jo felt groggy and lightheaded. Her skin was sticky. The recollections of the jungle did not fade, but like all other in her past were easily available on the surface.
Kai was sitting by the door. His wrist blades were snapping out and slowly winding in. Why is he here? Couldn't they whack her while the body occupied itself with self-pity? Would that be too charitable? Perhaps they waited for her awakening to finish her off. Record hers screams and play it as elevator music.
"Why are you here?" she asked. Her throat was stripped and it pained to speak. She did not know how long she was out of commission and the vocal cords strained from lack of use. Kai looked at her; his double blades reeled into the contraption.
"Told to watch you" Jo furrowed her brows as he responded in basic.
"Why?' She had to ask. What's the point of watching if she is back, locked in the empty lab room?
"Med'maru…deems you take your life"
They thought she would wake up and kill herself. Her mind fondled with many thoughts, but that was not one of them. If she was to commit hara-kiri it would have been with the intention to take one of the death-dealing assholes with her.
"So they put you on suicide watch" She said with a sneering smile. "You" she laughed "You might just hand me the knife"
"Would you want knife?" Kai asked unmoved as always composed and uncaring in her eyes.
"Will it make it easier?"
He smiled, raising those insect-like mandibles "You no threat, even with knife"
"That's not what I meant…" He cocked his head to the side and she continued "…would it be easier to explain why you killed me or do you not need an explanation?"
"We do not kill. We hunt"
"Could have fooled me"
He exhaled, pulled out a short sword and walk over to her. She refused to flinch, although her senses told her to run. She just watched. He placed the blade on the cot next to her and walked back.
'Am I ready to die?' She questioned. It was either this way or in some swamp they would take her to hunt down. She reached for the weapon and Kai extended the blades with a snap. Jo exceeded her honey badger limit. Angry, she charged. She did not reach her mark. He did not strike. Seth grabbed both of her arms. Jo did not notice his entry. She could not even perform her knife trick. The creatures learned fast and Seth restricted her hands. She yelled like a wild coyote. Trashed, pulled painfully at her arms. She used his strength and pulled herself up, delivering a solid kick to his sternum. She felt his resolve waver and she almost pulled away, but she was also drained. He shifted both her wrist into one palm and turned her around. Her back pressed against his chest. Both of his arms wrapped around her body. She trashed like a firecracker, looking like a deranged rabid raccoon. She wished she could hiss like a cat or spin venom like a viper. This was no longer a panic attack. Jo went supernova. There were no coherent words coming out of her mouth. She was a woman possessed speaking in tongues.
In days after that incident she returned to the quarters with Seth. She kept her head down and flinch at any rapid movement he made. Joanna knew that she was a classic case of some stress disorder. It was something out of her nature.
When in sorrow it is involuntary that the first reaction is composed of denial and isolation. Her body did a 'Full Monty' to buffer the immediate shock. Pain and emotional trauma is not an event. It is a process and a skinning spectacle can do a number even on a member of the military.
Jo has never been one to cower and hide. But the burden of experience is heavier than anything she has ever expected. Even as a soldier she shot someone once, and that was only to immobilize and not kill. Surprisingly enough beyond the pain she has witnessed, the life she has taken burdens her even further. She is aware of the agony the yautja would have inflicted if she has not pulled the trigger, and fully aware of the suffering he has already dished out, yet no matter how you wish it did nothing, the conscience has a funny way of sneaking up and delivering some heavy dose of remorse. Perhaps Dostoyevsky was onto something.
There are those that take life without a bat of an eyelid. There are those that justify their deeds and those that celebrate the killings. There are those that do not deserve another breath and those grim reaper surprises in most indefensible ways. The only difference between the prey and mindless murderer is the consideration that does not allow quickly to forget. She was not someone that took a life with ease. She's been fully aware that as soldier a day might come where a barrier might have to be crossed. She has always been one to believe that regret would never assault her if she did her duty and took down a scum bag that earned his fate. She has hunted with her father and killed animals for a meal. She has killed in defense from a rampant beast. There was just something more profound in executing a creature that could spell its own name. It was not just the pain because all living beings experience it and not the awareness of death because that might also be the same. It was the unfinished time that only a few creatures able to understand could fully comprehend. Although with the shot she performed it was doubtful that the boogeyman had time to contemplate. There is something egoistic about regret. It was not about the victim, but rather the feeling one influenced on oneself.
There were also those that surrounded her that produced corpses like the coca cola company bottling caps, without a second thought; Hunted humans and animals in same reserve. The thought that terrified her the most was an inner debate. Did these creatures have a conscience? Were they even born with one or had it been eradicated through training? She understood the laws of nature as she comprehended the nature of existence. You live, process, die. To make a decision to end a life capable of abstract thinking or even one without it for any other reason than defense and food was horrific.
Putting aside guilt, she also had to consider that as human she did in fact possess scruples and it was frightening to understand the residence for such as her in a place of no remorse. She was living among creatures that did not think twice of their decisions and never experienced doubt, which was human. Yet, in all that fell into place much was unclear; Why was she alive and here? Her first assumption was associated with the visits to the medic. She assumed it was for study. Granting she could take anything for fixed, and she has made the mistake of assuming too numerous times.
Then, the anger drew in, somewhere within her from the vulnerable subconscious. She was angry at Seth, angry at Yautja's in general for being inconsiderate pricks, angry at her predicament, angry at the assignment that she took that led her to Bumfuck Egypt, angry at those black bugs for not being more accurate in their attacks, angry at Yin for taking her with him, angry at Doc for attending her injuries, angry at Adi for telling her nothing even though she never asked. She was even angry at the way the covers folded when she went to sleep. There was normal anger and irrational one. And, most of all she was angry at herself. Self-loathing was making a comeback.
Then, she bargained, mostly with herself, but she also attempted to haggle with Seth. She tried, despite her fear, to request a way out. With false conviction she tried to persuade herself that if she asked - pretty please - they might drop her off in an undisclosed location within some distance of human beacons. She could not imagine her life among the creatures. In one of the bargaining sessions she discovered another element to hers and Seth's relationship and the reason for his bizarre behavior prior to the jungle nightmare. Discovered would have not been the accurate word, he basically intensely disclosed it.
"What to mate you" Seth said pressing her body to the wall like a boa constrictor suffocating her personal space, while she shook like a leaf. In the journey to regain semblance of normalcy, Seth just picked the worst time. Some time ago she would have told him to jack-off in the bathroom or took it under advisement.
At that very moment she reverted into terror. She pressed to the wall as far as she could away from the giant as he placed both large arms on either side of her trembling form and she almost went into another panic attack. Deep inside her, she believed that he would not hurt her. If he wanted to, he would have already, but even though she told herself that there was no threat there was also no convincing. Jo needed to unwind, but his straightforward proposition was perceived as a demand and it unhinged something frightening.
Joanna did not remember what exactly she said and how she formed her refusal, but his anger in turn made an impact. He snarled and his fist collided with the wall above her, sending tiny shocks through her body. He could have easily overpowered her. His strength was frightening and debilitating. She also wondered if Seth's need for sex was the reason he agreed to her presence in the first place. Irrational fears are more numerous than ice cream flavors. Everyone is scared of something. Jo added another phobia: Yautjophobia.
Seth breached the subject once more after that, but again she balked. If Jo had a tail it would have been tucked between her legs. She was sick of it. Mostly sick of hers attitude and feebleness. She did not want to be afraid or sneak out from the bed at night to sleep on the sani floor. It was a compulsion she needed time to learn to control. The urge to stay away from Seth or anyone else for that matter was stronger than the need to function. She needed to mentally disengage and rebuild her confidence. Unfortunately her roommate did not help in the matter.
He was persistent for her companionship and almost always wanted her around. He went hunting on his own, probably on another planetary DEFCON 1. Sometimes he went training without her, which was for the better. Watching yautjas train brought back bad memories.
At some point the fear just passed, replaced by sadness and loneliness. Joanna missed her family. She thought about her parents, sisters, and friends; Most of all she thought of how they must think she is dead and how it broke their hearts. She thought about all the things she will no longer have. It was a vulgar disruption of the machinery of life.
He circled the young freshly branded hunter to the left, clenched his fist on the staff. The other palm bunched into a fist, claws biting and drawing a bit of blood. The Youngblood sees it, but as every young brash warrior he rears his head higher in defiance, snarls in contempt. His opponent is larger, experienced and at this exact time irritated. It would have been wise for the young male to curb his pride and be levelheaded. Var'ha-dlak has always been reckless and confident. Setg'syra, however, is not an average opponent. The superciliousness attitude fetches fury in the honored warrior. Setg'syra does not mind confidence, but will not tolerate insolence. He decides to teach the brazen pup a lesson.
He lowers his guard. Var'ha-dlak wavers uncertain, but like the presumptuous fool he is, he takes charge. Setg'syra allows the first punch. Var'ha-dla strikes and the larger male shrugs it off, catches the next, oncoming fist with ease. His staff brings the Youngblood down to his knees. Before the pup raises his other arm up in time to block, the honored warrior's next punch connects. He proceeds to punch repeatedly until the blood covers the yautja's face, until he can hear a snap of a broken mandible, until the male stops struggling and limps in the hold. Setg'syra allows the unconscious male slide to the floor.
"Setg'syra! This was a spar" Yin'thar reprimands "not a conquest. He was to learn…"
Setg'syra delivers a vibrating growl. The other Youngbloods shift uncomfortable on their feet. The scent of fear fills the large Kehrite. "He has learned"
"Is there something on your mind?" Kai di'chak asks with usual smugness.
"Do not enrage me." He snaps in response.
"I like you cross" Kai di'chak answered stepping up and delivering a short and nearly playful indication of a challenge. The frisky attitude fashions a new thread of irritation, which Setg'syra knows to be Kai di'chak's intent. Reluctant to be appeased he accepts the challenge steps to the circle and roars his charge.
He cannot rush and Kai di'chak does not represent the brazen attitude in the arena as he does with his words. He does not mindlessly rush to an attack. The result of their spars often favors the tempered fighter. Kai di'chak does not lack attitude and agitation. It is evident, however, how Kai di'chak improves his poise when entering a match. He is focused, composed and fearless. Setg'syra is distracted and unable to calm. He outweighs in mass and overshadows his opponent in size and no longer able to contain the need to punch his mei'hswei he storms, putting as much weight and strength as he could muster. There is no reason to hold back. Kai di'chak can take a hit. But, he does not. At the point of connection Setg'syra does not meet Kai di'chack's mandible, but the dull portion of the warrior's ki'cti-pa. The sly hunter blocks his assault and glides out of Setg'syra's way with swift grace.
Setg'syra reminds himself of the speed Kai di'chak employs on most opponents, but knows even a block against his powerful arms is a jolt of physical suffering.
Kai di'chack rolls his shoulders and circles. Setg'syra expects a bold remark, perhaps a lift of the mandible, but receives none. He is faced with an opponent that is not willing to award a weakness and respects the procedures of the match. In that regard Kai di'chak is an opponent of a much higher value, than the imprudent yaoungblood. His blood resonates with the thrill of the fight, excitement of meeting a dangerous opponent, one worthy to be matched.
Setg'syra bloodlust elevates. He wants to pummel the male to his knees and attacks. The adversary sidesteps, blocks, delivers a quick sharp strike. Though, he is also not without injury. Setg'syra's ki'cti-pa slits the hide between the rival's ribs. Encouraged by the blood he gives no more time and lunges and all too late realizes his mistake. His mindless suppressed rage pent up and encouraged by blood permits his over-confidence to blindside knowledge and caution. Kai di'chak wastes no opportunity and ducks, uses Setg'syra's mass against him to bring him to the ground, pressed the blade of the ki'cti-pa to his heart. If facing a death match or a prey this would have been his end.
"You lecture the young in lieu of insolence and commit the same mistake" Yin'thar sermons from the sidelines. Kai di'chak does not remove the weapon from position. "Leave" he roars. No one questions the honored words and all promptly disperse. Only he, Yin'thar and Kai di'chak remain.
"You are rushed. As I asked what is on your mind?"
"Oooman"
"Ah. As presumed." The reply comes clipped.
"She is fearful, distant and …" Setg'syra lowers his head to the ground, exhales and swallows his pride "…and refuses me"
"Refuses you?" Kai di'chak asks, lifting the eye ridge in a knowing gesture. He recognizes the meaning, but still seeks confirmation.
"Sei-i. She refuses to rut"
"Ah" His meh'swei contemplates. "I could only wonder on your new attempt at courting" The comment is not without amusement.
Setg'syra gives the remark some thought and replies with more bite than one at a blade's end should "I have made it bluntly clear" then he continues with words trimmed and measured "She is not herself, absent strength and detached"
"I did not think you bear concern" Kai di'chak explores further clearly dissatisfied with the answer.
"She provides no challenge, no entertainment and she refuses the one function she can still make available"
"Is that what makes you restless and unrestrained?" Yin'thar interjects "It might not be my place to lecture, but is it you that accepted guardianship. You did not know what the task would contain. I also do not believe that inability to rut with an ooman is of greatest lost"
Kai di'chak removes the blade from his chest, steps back. Before continuing the conversation, Setg'syra gets back to his feet, enjoying the height advantage he carries over the other hunters.
"I have never found myself lacking in any task that I have taken. She has almost departed from existence and I have done everything to avoid such a conclusion. Now the shell she has become is a reminder of my inadequacy. There is no reason for distress. She is healed and functional. Discomfort has seized. If she is tense I provide the opportunity for relief, be in spar or in bed. She refuses both, sneaks out of the cot each night when thinking that I sleep. It is disrespectful. I am not a male to be put aside as some eta." Rage fills him again at the thought of the infuriating female. He did everything to prove his worth and instead of being rewarded received reproach and refusal.
"I fail to see how you have earned the right to mate with the female." Kai di'chak declares rather than asks. Inflamed with exasperation he gives his brother a warning growl. The honored worrier is unperturbed and continues "You have failed to provide safety on more than one occasion. You allowed me as close to draw blood…"
"What would you have me do?" Setg'syra interrupts. When disrespected he sees no obligation to permit his hunt brother's slander.
"Place your blade upon my throat. Honor the responsibility given. It is you who should teach the pyode amedha to learn obedience. You should make clear to anyone with an attempt on her life that it will not be allowed. She does not submit because you have not requested for her to learn such. She is faded under your hand and guidance. She has become prey for one that was already shifting on lines of sanity. Yet, you requested his attendance in the search. A mistake on your part. You have failed to notice the lack of understanding. Thus, you should experience inadequacy in the face of disappointment. "
"She is just an ooman"
"Sei-i" Kai di'chak agrees and contracts the blades neatly in their case. He turns and without another word proceeds to leave.
Without intention to allow the conversation to end he calls upon the exiting hunter "What do you mean sei-i?"
"Oration is not my talent. Yin'thar will be much better at it. I am quite certain he has plenty of insight. I have already said too much. It is no place for me to take Yin'thar gift. Imagine the imbalance." The answer ends on Kai di'chaks usual inconclusive, dispelled and entertained tone. However, despite the harsh judgment Seg'syra undulates in his conviction, but unwilling to dismiss them entirely. Beyond uncertainty he lifts his mandibles. One aspect has not change he is still as easily entertained as ever and an innocent jab at Yin'thar has always been their favorite exercise in humor.