A/N: It's the first night of the quest and discomfort is already rising.

Chapter 17

Warren winged toward the ship. He could feel her presence even before his feet hit the ground. A tingle trickled through him starting in the chest then spreading from wing base to tip before shooting to his groin. He bit his lip. A couple days away from the incessant craving had been far more of a relief than he'd realized. Alighting at the edge of a small clearing, a brief wave of distortion preceded the sudden reappearance of Volu as she dropped the cloak. He could see her waiting for him in the bay opening, a wide smile greeting him. Shifting the two large duffel bags to a more comfortable position, Warren headed on foot toward the ship.

"Warren!" she called out with almost childlike delight as he neared. He saw the telltale signs of Ettwanae holding herself back. She, too, was likely feeling the pull. 'Will we be able to live like this?' he wondered. Then his eyes roamed her body with a will of their own, taking in the form and curves of the woman he wanted to make love to for days on end. He sucked in his breath as sex drive threatened to run over his rational brain. He forced his gaze away from her. 'Easy, flyboy. Just breathe.'

Focusing entirely on putting one foot in front of the other, he made it to Volu and stepped inside, intentionally looking everywhere but at the Eshaaru. Flint was standing next to Gatebi, which surprised Warren. They were to pick him up on their way off planet.

"Decided you had enough of Milwaukee already?" he queried immediately, setting down the heavy duffels.

Flint's exaggerated sigh warned the teen was about to share more than Warren likely wanted to hear at the moment.

"Man, you don't know the half of it! Mom was all over me the minute I walked in. Where ya been? Why didn't you call? No one knows where you even live anymore…been outta of my mind with worry…and so it went, on and on. God, you'd think I'd run away and left the freakin' planet or somethin'!" He smirked. "Hey, isn't that what I did? But she doesn't know that. She thinks I'm in with some gang or druggies, as she calls 'em. Then he starts in, as if she's not enough. Told him I wasn't there to see him, just Mom. Told him to fuck off, too. Shoulda seen his face!" Flint did an impression of shock and stern disapproval. "Mom finally told him to run some kinda stupid errand just to get him outta there. Thank god. I was ready to call Vo right then and I'd been home less than an hour!"

The teen paused as if expecting something. Warren guessed it was Volu's little reminder, but she must have decided to let the offense pass unpunished. Warren shifted from one foot to the other. The teen didn't look to be ready to end his litany of complaints just yet.

"War, I'm telling ya, if you had to put up with my step dad, you'd be looking to leave the planet, too. Uptight bastard if ya ever saw one!"

Warren chuckled, thinking 'You didn't live with Scott Summers.' The quiet laugh seemed to spur Flint on.

"Nothin' I do is good enough. Now I'm really fuckin' up, worrying Mom and doing god knows what, he said. Like he has a clue. Jesus, War – I'm doing something important here – helpin' Twae and all. And I can't even tell 'em!" The kid shook his head. "They wouldn't understand anyway. Get all bent 'bout aliens and stuff. Mutants are bad enough. Shit, if they only knew! Fuck, it's all screwy and…and – I'm just glad to be back!"

Warren hesitated. Was the kid done? Had he expelled it all or just pausing to breathe.

"We're happy you are back, Flint, as we told you when you commed and explained your discomfort. We believed you the first time." Gatebi's voice was a mix of reassurance and reprove.

Warren wondered how many times Flint had related the story to his captive audience. "Did you leave your mother on good terms, though?" Warren asked. It would not be wise if the teen and his parent parted badly and he then stewed and dwelled on it all the while they were away.

Flint nodded. "Yeah, I guess. She wasn't happy with my answers to where I was goin', but we're good."

"Then we should be ready to leave. Greetings, Volu!" He called out. "If you'd be so kind as to begin our trip to Jandur."

"Welcome back, Warren. I will depart immediately. And so our journey begins," the Eshaar'ne proclaimed.

"Let's hope we all find what we seek," he wished as he looked at the three pairs of expectant eyes focused on him. Those eyes were filled with excitement, hope, and expectations that he'd lead them to their goal. 'Oh, god, what have I gotten myself into?' He looked down at his bags. 'First things first.' He grabbed the duffel handles. "Where do I put this stuff?"

As soon as he said it, he realized a glaring oversight. Volu had just three bedchambers. Someone needed to bunk in with someone else. The mere thought of sharing a room with Flint made him groan. Flint suddenly didn't look so pleased either, while Gatebi and Ettwanae exchanged sideways looks that Warren knew spoke volumes as only women could with a glance. There was a long, awkward silence.

"I can sleep in the gathering room," he offered none too enthusiastically. Having one's bedroom in the livingroom wasn't a long-term solution, but it'd work until they figured something else out.

Then Volu spoke. "If I may make a suggestion. The small storeroom can be converted. It does not offer hygiene facilities, but perhaps Flint would share his."

The teen muttered something under his breath and pointedly did not say that'd be okay.

"Warren and I can share my bathroom. I don't mind," Ettwanae offered. In fact, to Warren's estimation, Ettwanae appeared to welcome the idea. He, on the other hand, had a shit load of reservations.

"Let's get that storeroom converted. I'll use Flint's bathroom, assuming that's okay." Warren intentionally made it a statement and not a question. He may have just ticked off Flint, but the kid would just have to suck it up. Warren, though, had something in his bags that might smooth over the inconvenience.

"Sure." Flint's response was the epitome of neutrality. Warren was impressed.

The next hour they spent emptying the upper deck storeroom, hauling those items to the lower level cargo area, creating a makeshift bed out of spare items, and turning cargo crates into a dresser, storage, and nightstand. When they were done, Warren looked over his new quarters. It was tight for one with a 16-foot wingspan, but it would do. The bed wouldn't offer much in the way of sumptuous comfort. After having spent two years on Sat'rey with what he swore was the softest, most comfortable mattress in the universe, Warren had spent a tidy sum trying to recreate that luxury on Earth. He had gotten close. Having a mattress where he could actually lie on his back without discomfort was an indulgence he never wanted to give up. Now, though, sleeping on his back wouldn't be happening.

As Warren unpacked, he called out for Flint who'd wandered down to the galley with the others to prepare the evening meal. It was a relief when Ettwanae left the room. He was sweating from the effort to control his libido while she was so close.

"Yo," Flint acknowledged popping his head inside the doorway.

"Got something for you," he offered pointing to two pairs of blue jeans lying on the almost-bed. He had to guess at Flint's size, but figured he'd gotten it close. While at the mansion, he asked his butler to buy a couple pairs of whichever brand were the hottest in young adult fashion. Flint was at the bed in a flash and from his expression, Warren guessed the butler made the right purchase.

"Rogues?" the teen exclaimed rotating the jeans around to ravage them with his eyes. "You got me Rogues? These cost a fortune!" Flint held them up to his body to gauge the fit. "Two pairs? Fuck, War, how'd ya know? These are badass! Man, if my friends could see me. I can't believe it. Shit! Rogues!"

Warren smiled at Flint's joy. "So I take it you like them?"

"God, thanks, man! I mean it – really. Thanks! Gotta show 'em to the girls." Flint spun around and darted out the door, then stopped short. "War, it really is okay if we share my bathroom," came the olive branch and then he was gone.

'Yep, that was a good idea,' Warren congratulated himself. He had two other gifts, but those would keep.

"Warren?" Volu voice floated through the room.

"Yes?"

"I would feel more secure if you deactivated your PI while it is not in use."

"It's in standby."

"I have already confirmed that, but there remains a slight chance it could be tracked. Some Turzent technology has become quite sophisticated. You are Royal Court and it is conceivable that your PI is used by government forces to locate you in emergencies."

"What about your own highly advanced technology? Can't you detect whether that's the case? Or block any signal if you're right?"

"Typically, yes on both points. I prefer to be overly cautious where the Turzent government is concerned."

Warren didn't feel like arguing the point. "If I want to comm someone, are you going to stop me?"

Silence for several moments. "No, but I will attempt to persuade you otherwise for our safety."

Warren could accept that. "Fair enough." If the ship had answered differently, he may have reconsidered his decision. He grabbed up the PI and shut it down completely. The downside result being it would store no messages or provide any notification someone was attempting to reach him. Then he set it atop the small cargo tub he was using as a dresser and continued arranging his makeshift quarters.

###

He had monitored as ordered, listening to Archangel's conversations as he arranged to be away from his homeworld for a lengthy period. As the Eshaar'ne departed the planet, he and Bae eavesdropped on Earth's defense systems as they detected an anomalous signal moving through their atmosphere toward space, uncertain if it was a natural phenomenon or something more sinister. For the second time in less than two Earth rotational periods, their primitive technology was unable to discern the nature of the irregularity. Eshaar'ne cloaking may be not perfect inside gravity wells, but it was more than sufficient to fool the scanning technology of the backward planet.

As he watched the ship phase to FTL, he felt no urgency to follow. He knew their next destination – Jandur; back to where he and the Etagllot had laid their trap once before for the female. That had been a perfectly executed operation and he still felt pride in the capture. And so when he was told the Etagllot lost her on Hydeera during an Imperial raid, he was angry. Sloppy. How could you let something that valuable slip through your fingers! But in the end, the Elders decided to allow the Eshaaru to remain free.

He considered his new orders concerning Archangel – watch, observe, and apply nudges along the way when necessary. First nudge – Phai wanted the pair maneuvered to a certain old 'friend' of his. First, though, came Jandur. Then they'd see if any subtle intervention was necessary.

###

Ettwanae was disappointed – couldn't help herself even though she knew it would was illogical. Yet part of her hoped to share her bedroom with her soulbound. It was only natural, yet impossible. She understood that. It hurt. She so wanted him. She dreamed of him. Desired him. Longed with an intense ache for him.

Helping Warren get his room set up was difficult, but she refused to be denied that small pleasure. She fought down urges the whole time. Being separated and then coming back together seemed to have retriggered the desire for first mating, although greatly diminished in intensity. Warren had been fighting it as well. So many little things gave it away – subtle twitches and shivers of the wings, the stiffness of his body, pointed avoidance of her touch and gaze, the pained look in his eyes. She riled all over again at the injustice. It was a relief when Gatebi said they should start the meal. Putting some distance between them dulled the throbbing.

As the trio pulled food from storage, Gatebi gave Ettwanae inquisitive looks. After Flint answered Warren's summons, she held the question no longer. "Ettwanae, are you going to be able to endure Warren's presence?"

Ettwanae smiled at her best friend. "That obvious?" Gatebi gestured affirmative. "It will be uncomfortable, but I hope so."

Gatebi set the neibru juice down on the counter and turned to Ettwanae. "He was just as uncomfortable. The situation could become very wearing on both of you."

Ettwanae threw up her hands and the emotions burst forth. "It's so unfair! A cruel joke. We're soulbounds that can't bind." She started to pace around the table, Gatebi eyes following. "Why is this happening?"

Just then Flint bounded into the room bearing a huge smile and holding up some pants. "Guys, ya won't believe what-" he stopped in his tracks verbally and physically as two pairs of eyes locked to his with less than welcome.

"Not now," Gatebi whispered.

Flint got the message and backed out. "I…umm…catch ya later." A quiet but exasperated "women!" could be heard from the corridor as Flint moved on. Then, "Hey, Vo, guess what!"

Gatebi turned back to Ettwanae. "Did he tell you who he's bonded to?" she asked in gentle tones.

Ettwanae hesitated. She wasn't certain Warren would want that revealed, but yet Ettwanae shared nearly everything with Gatebi. She picked up her pacing where she left off at Flint's interruption.

"It's someone important." Ettwanae couldn't quite bring herself to reveal who that was.

Gatebi continued meal preparations, placing their entrée in the warming compartment. "If he's bonded, then there's another Eshaaru out there. At least that's something. Maybe-"

"Not an Eshaaru," Ettwanae interrupted. Gatebi's face revealed her confusion. "He is falsely bonded to a non-Eshaaru.

"What? How? Who?" Gatebi shook her head. Then Gatebi's eyes snapped to hers in stunned disbelief, suggesting the Alcab was clever enough to have put the pieces together.

"It shouldn't be possible, but it is. Volu has a theory, but whatever the reason, we can't bond because of it." Speaking the harsh reality nearly brought her to tears. She suddenly needed to sit and plunked down heavily on a chair, pulling her wings forward in a half-cocoon. "It's wrong and shouldn't have happened! He didn't mean for it to happen. He didn't even know what bonding was."

"And the bond can't be broken?"

Ettwanae laughed with bitterness as Gatebi starting setting the table. "Oh, it can – if we kill the one he's bonded to."

Gatebi stopped in mid-motion. "That's the only way?"

Ettwanae nodded. "Unless he dies naturally or Etxan'Ir offers another way, yes."

"I'm sorry, Ettwanae. I know how much you wanted him to be the one."

"We're not giving up. It's another reason to find Etxan'Ir." Ettwanae rose, deciding that getting the meal ready would be a good distraction. "Enough of painful things. Warren's coming with us. I want to be happy about what we have, not sad about what we don't."

Gatebi gave her a supportive look. "You are strong, my friend."

"I have to be." Ettwanae paused before the cold storage compartment. "He still believes himself Human." She felt that needed to be understood.

"Despite all the evidence?"

She nodded, touching the top of the pod to open it. Then they focused on getting the food ready.

###

Warren couldn't sleep, couldn't get comfortable, and couldn't take his mind off the woman who lay in her bed mere paces down the corridor.

"Arrgh!" he fumed, tossing the covers aside and sitting up. He rubbed his temples, rolled his shoulders, and stretched his wings as far as he could in the small, pitch-black room. Even the few hours he'd spent attempting to get to sleep on the hard, makeshift bed left him sore and irritable. 'Should of figured out a way to bring my mattress!' he reprimanded himself. The body aches lasted only seconds as his healing factor quickly dissolved them. Emotional aches were another matter.

Sighing deeply, he rose and eased through the darkness until Volu sensed his movement and barely there illumination bathed the room. It was more than adequate for his mutation-enhanced night vision. Grabbing the water canteen he had the foresight to fill before retiring, he drank deeply. 'Probably not the smartest idea,' he realized. The only toilet politely available to him was in Flint's room and he'd hate to disturb the teenager in the middle of the night.

Leaving his quarters, Warren stepped into the corridor and immediately soft lighting dissipated the darkness. To his right was Flint's room. Further down the hall and next to the teen's chambers was the family room and just beyond that, the lift for the lower deck. The bridge was at the nose of the ship and at the opposite end of the corridor from Warren's makeshift room. On the left side of the corridor was the galley, Gatebi's room, and then Ettwanae's chambers adjacent to the bridge.

He decided to head to the bridge and look it over. The floor felt gently warm to his bare feet – and soft yet unyielding. Difficult to describe. Pausing in front of Ettwanae's closed door, an inner voice told him to enter, to take her into his arms, to be with her. With a shiver, he moved on.

Volu brought the bridge lights up as he entered. "You are restless," the living ship pointed out the obvious.

"I can see you'll be difficult to pull one over on," he jested in sarcasm. He walked up to the only chair on the bridge – a narrow-backed throne designed for a captain with wings.

"You can sit if you wish."

He did as invited and found that his body and the chair formed to one another perfectly. The upper portion of the chair back was just wide enough to provide support, but not so wide as to interfere with his wings. The lower half widened and curved up gently to hug his ribcage, providing greater side-to-side stability. With a seat that was soft yet firm – a recurring theme on the ship, he noted – one would likely be comfortable sitting for hours.

In front of him was a small dashboard of controls, all very organic in appearance, just like the rest of the ship. The scanner display showed points of light coming and going.

"Stars?" he asked.

"Stars, planets, and other objects."

"You use bio-luminescence to create the display?"

"Yes."

"How fast are we traveling?"

"LS3.225 on the Imperial FTL scale."

"The scale is based on multiples of 1000 times the speed of light, so LS3.225 is 3225 times light speed." He'd learned about the FTL measure years ago on the Ztar's flagship, the Mi-Lartui.

"Yes."

"I'm not entirely certain how FTL is achieved by Imperial races, but I'm guessing you go about it differently."

"Indeed. FLT engines create a distortion in space, allowing vessels to travel at speeds far exceeding that of light without ill effect. That takes a lot of energy and powerful engines. On the other hand, I mimic FTL engines via a partial phase into a dimension that is, in simple concept, smaller. Travel within the spatial differential creates the same result – faster than light travel in this dimension."

Warren rolled over the concept. Volu had mentioned the method before, but he hadn't given it much thought. Phasing into another dimension that was smaller – extremely clever. "How did someone discover that smaller dimension?"

"I do not know. It is very ancient knowledge possessed by the U'larr."

"And you said earlier that when you phase, you can't be detected."

"That is correct. When I fully phase, the technology of the known races cannot sense me. Someday, that may change, but for now we are safe from their scanners unless close to a concentrated gravitational field, which partially disrupts phasing."

"Such as a planet."

"Correct."

"What about stars?"

"If I come within close range, it would disrupt my phase."

"But you can detect other ships."

"That is correct. During phase, I straddle two dimensions. My scanning abilities are able to monitor both simultaneously."

Warren nodded in understanding. "Otherwise, you might splatter yourself all over a planet in one or the other dimension?"

"Because I am phased, the splatter would be more of molecular dispersion, but the idea is the same."

"What is your maximum speed on the Imperial scale?"

"I am limited to my natural propulsion speed, but while phased, that translates to roughly LS4.2.

"Over four thousand times the speed of light? That's almost unimaginable. How fast are the fastest traditional ships?"

"Of that I am uncertain. The fastest I have encountered was traveling LS3.5, but that may not have been its best speed."

"Whose ship was that, do you know?"

"It was a Turzent military vessel. The maximum velocity of military craft is usually a closely held secret."

Warren was impressed. He'd spent six years with Ztar and hadn't a clue his ships were that fast. "How fast are you in normal space?"

"My standard propulsion can bring us to 19 percent of light speed, slower than standard ships, unfortunately, but useful for close-in maneuvering and in-system hops."

"So you could be faster than anything else out there in FTL mode, but slower than many at normal drive."

"I agree with that assessment."

"And you explained earlier, you manipulate gravity for sublight speed."

"Correct. I either repulse or attract using naturally occurring gravitation fields, such those around stars and planets."

Warren got up and roamed the bridge, looking and touching along the way. There was little in the way of displays, controls, or the like. "Volu, what if you're unable to travel or aim weapons? What happens if you become incapacitated? How do we control those functions for you?"

Volu did not answer immediately, which instantly worried Warren. As a result, what he heard next came as little surprise.

"If I should be so badly damaged as for that to be the situation, then you would all be in grave peril. There is no way for you to take control of my systems."

"I see." It drove home what a desperate situation they escaped from when the other Eshaar'ne attacked. They were indeed lucky to be alive. "I have another question – different subject. You use the term 'my other.' What do you mean by that?"

"Ettwanae is my Other. We are joined. She and I complete each other. It is a traditional reference used by Eshaar'ne when referring to their joined Eshaaru. If Ettwanae should have a mate, he or she also become my Other, though we are not directly joined. One Eshaar'ne can have two Others, but an Eshaaru has only a single Other."

"How do you become joined?"

Again the hesitation. "Warren, you should try to rest. It has been a long day."

"So you're telling me enough questions for one night?"

"You have a healthy curiosity, and yes – enough for one night."

"You're not the first to tell me I ask a lot of questions, and likely not the last," Warren laughed, but sleep was pulling at him as he thought about it.

Back in his room, he crawled into bed for another attempt at slumber. Just before he nodded off, it hit him.

'Fuck!"

"Warren, what is wrong?" came the tense inquiry.

"Preening oil. I forgot it. Damn it all!" He was wide awake again with the irritation and sat up. He could have sworn he heard the ship laugh.

"Warren, in case you failed to notice, you are not the only winged being on board. I produce oil for conditioning wings, which is mixed into the shower soap. Eshaar'ne take care of their inhabitants."

"Oh," he said feeling somewhat foolish. Of course there'd be something for Ettwanae. He laid back down and tried to relax, allowing pleasant memories of Ztar helping him preen to carry him off.

###

A/N: Jandur is how many days away? There's time to get to know each other more. Next time, Warren talks with Ettwanae and then with Flint. Just what's the story with Flint and the Etagllot anyway?