A/N: Looks like we've come to the next to last chapter of Soulbound. In these last two sections, we tag the positions of our key players to wrap up.
But first, in this installment, Ztar reviews where things stand for him and the Empire. Hercjell makes a cameo appearance. Ettwanae and Warren folic on Est'El. Phai reflects on the situation from her perspective. Lastly, Warren is staggered by the first of two blows, in a one-two punch that will leave him reeling.
Chapter 38
Ztar had struggled only briefly with the decision after Archangel departed the Mi-Lartui. Archangel stated Ayni was where the clues were taking them, but something in the man's wording left the true destination open to debate. Ztar suspected that Ayni was a layover only and not the objective. And so, he had ordered that the military Ayni System comsat sensors be recalibrated to monitor for the difficult to detect Hydeera signature associated with Eshaaru ship. Then when the distinctive signal left the planet, they would extrapolate possible destinations based on what would be limited trajectory information captured before the ship became undetectable. Ztar knew the odds of getting the true destination correct were exceedingly slim, but he had to try.
Waiting would be the difficult part. It was uncertain when Archangel's ship would arrive at the remote colony. That Ayni was at the edge of Turzent-controlled space alone made Ztar nervous. He had bad feelings about what that meant.
The man sighed in resignation. With little he could do to watch over his wandering Court member, Ztar returned his attention to things he did have some semblance of control over. Various reports awaited his perusal. His long-time aide was extremely adept at sifting through the myriad of news briefs and dispatches other government officials felt worthy of the Emperor's attention. Most weren't. Ztar wished to stay focused on long-term issues and challenges, not mired in routine trappings of managing an interstellar realm. That was one of the driving forces behind his shift to a blended imperialistic and democratic rule – an imperiocratic government. True, a leader must understand the current state of his realm, but he must also peer far into the future with clear vision. Only then could he devise the best course from present state to future goal. One cannot map the path from ground level…a higher perspective is required – the 20,000-onta altitude view, so to speak.
How did he want the Empire to look two generations from now? What needed to be done this year, this decade to make that dream reality? What challenges and threats would they be facing in 5, 10, or 50 years? These and many other questions were what both intimidated and thrilled him.
During the first many years of rule, Ztar focused on acquisition and control. While he had always been a strategic thinker, by necessity his planning range had been limited to generally 5 to 10 years out. Quickly become large and strong enough to thwart all but the most overwhelming of potential threats was the theme. The universe was a dangerous place for the small and weak. After 15 years of empire building, he had forged a realm capable of defending itself well enough to give pause to anyone with desirous intent on his sector of the galaxy. The war with the Commonwealth proved the Empire's mettle. That conflict was a unifying force, and Ztar believed without having gone through those difficult four years, moving to a new form of government would not have been possible.
Admittedly, the war could have as easily become the event that shattered all he had built. Worlds forced together by his will and military might could have easily decided to join the Commonwealth and defy him. With a few exceptions, that had not occurred. Whether out of fear, self-interest, or true allegiance, the vast majority of the over 130 inhabited worlds aware of their place within the Empire fought on the side of the Empire. Ztar credited many things for that – the trustworthy leadership he had installed, the dignified treatment of those who had bowed to his will, the justice of imperial rule, and the security and economic benefits of residing within a stable and powerful realm.
True, Ztar had been harsh to those who continued to defy him, but that is the way of conquest. Most soon learned an important lesson from the more compliant worlds – live peaceable and accept imperial rule and your life can improve dramatically. That was always the carrot that followed his sword. No complying world or small realm remained in shambles after subjugation. No world was ignored or left technologically behind. No world's culture supplanted or history eradicated. Ztar learned from the mistakes of past conquerors. Taking a defeated people's dignity and heritage leads only to deeper hatred. Hatred breeds rebellion. Ztar had no time for rebellion. He had an Empire to build.
But beware if you slapped away Ztar's gifts. Offend the open hand extended once the sword was sheathed and the repercussions were swift and highly undesirable.
While joining the Empire was often a shotgun wedding, it usually became mutually beneficial – one of the offshoots of strategic acquisition. And thus, when the Commonwealth declared war, nearly all of the imperial worlds fought on Ztar's side. Once peace came again, Ztar took advantage of the unity war fostered and moved his realm to the next phase. He wanted an Empire that systems joined of free will…a safe haven in a dangerous universe. The future was to grow through merger. Thus far, it seemed to be working – the Parma-Sentois Alliance entry would soon be final following a concerted joint effort to rid that realm of the most egregious Etagllot influence. That would add another seven inhabited, technically advanced worlds to the Empire. Ztar smiled in satisfaction at the first of what he hoped were many such joinings.
Ztar pulled his mind from reminiscing back to the duties of the day. Sukja understood Ztar's priorities and filtered the multitude of vying requests for Ztar's time accordingly. Thus, when the Ozjaerian flagged a scientific report from the prestigious Cuquerel Astronomical Institute regarding the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy, Ztar's interest was immediately piqued. The intro to the report recapped information he already knew. The Empire was roughly 25,000 light years from the spacetime singularity named S001. That figure represented the minimum time for any light-speed particles or phenomena to reach the edge of his realm, but probes sent to the galactic center long before Ztar's birth recorded events and transmitted that data via subspace nearly instantly.
Remnant effects indicated S001 emitted a massive flare roughly 27,000 years ago. A far lesser expulsion occurred approximately 15,000 years past; that particle wave still raced toward the Empire. Between times, the monster quieted, almost falling asleep. But if the scientists were correct, the giant began stirring 2000 years ago. Since then, minor flares were occurring at increasingly frequent intervals. The relatively small flares created little concern since several had occurred in the last 500 years with no ill affect on normal or subspace. But if the scientists at Cuquerel were right, that was changing. Flares of greater strength and duration were recorded over the last 300 years, the strongest and most recent being roughly 70 years ago. "The monster is rattling its cage," the report declared boldly.
In very disquieting descriptions, the report offered a worst-case scenario should a flare the intensity of the one of 27,000 years prior was to erupt. Subspace could be affected instantaneously by a massive flare; disrupting communications for an unpredictable span of time. That would be disastrous. Interstellar civilizations were only feasible because of two discoveries – subspace communications and faster-than-light travel.
If communications were disrupted for an extended period, all Ztar worked for could be lost at nature's whim. Yet a flare of that magnitude may not hit for another 10,000 years. Or it could happen tomorrow. The Turzent Emperor swallowed hard with the realization of how truly insignificant he was in the great universe.
This was one of the very challenges Ztar had positioned himself to tackle. Cuquerel urged additional research in methods for overcoming normal and subspace affects of a major flare. He would heed the advice, but he wanted independent review of the conclusions, as well. If Cuquerel's opinion was validated, he would funnel whatever resources were needed to combat the threat. Ztar would become the driving force to ensure the Empire was as prepared as possible for the evitable.
With a sigh to natural phenomena no one can control, Ztar moved on to another report that held information of events equally out of his control – turbulence within their largest neighbor. Unlike the solidarity of the post-war Turzent Empire, the federation of independent worlds called The System Commonwealth showed signs of unraveling and the reasons were unclear. Monitoring of their comnet broadcasts offered a myriad of publicized criticisms of the loosely overseeing parliament and unified military. MI sifted through the thousands of data bits to determine the fundamental issues, or at least their opinion of the root of the discontent…lack of guiding and envisioned leadership. Without a trusted, unifying force, the Commonwealth remained a loose-knit and often disjointed conglomeration of independent worlds. Apparently, some worlds were clamoring for a stronger government, while others felt less oversight was necessary, citing the contrived war declared against the Turzent Empire as an example of power abuse.
Ztar recognized potential failings long ago in the Commonwealth, and he worked hard to avoid them in his new imperiocratic government. The very star system independence the Commonwealth boasted was also its greatest weakness. Too many voices vying to be heard and wield the greatest influence. One voice…one vision…one final authority providing guidance – there was none. Ztar and his Court believed people want control over their daily affairs and to preserve what they hold precious, but they wish to do so within a framework of a strong supporting structure. And they yearn for someone to lead them toward a stable and fulfilling future for their children. Ztar intended to give his people those things. It was what he was destined to do. He believed that to his core.
On his PI, Ztar read the detailed assessment of the state of their neighbor and it was not encouraging. Commonwealth leadership and its unified military suffered from lack of public confidence even more so after the ill-conceived war. Various systems were hinting with increasing frequency of seceding from the Commonwealth. Some spoke of creating a new federation. Others, surprisingly, spoke of opening talks with the Turzent Empire, particularly worlds bordering the Barrens. One system regent actually pointed to the recent voluntary additions to the Empire – the Raisil Unity and Etabre Collective, as well as the upcoming Parma-Sentois Alliance joining – stating that these systems were quite pleased with the new government that had been created and enacted with what he called "amazing speed and efficiency." That brought a smile to Ztar.
The smile faded when he considered the ramifications should Commonwealth systems start knocking on his door. Of course, it may all be political rhetoric spewed only to leverage change, but MI's analysis emphasized there may be substance behind the words.
Ztar leaned back in the chair of his traveling office aboard the Mi-Lartui as it sped toward his throneworld, Sat'rey. Extreme scenarios of the future rose up to face him. What would it mean if the Commonwealth collapsed or if civil war broke out? What would be the political outfall if border systems did come seeking inclusion in the Empire? Membership in the Commonwealth was voluntary, or so it was claimed. If Ztar welcomed seceding systems, would their neighbors view the encroaching Turzent Empire as a threat? Would that cause the remaining Commonwealth to rattle the sabers of war once again? Complex issues, multifaceted challenges, political outfall, and countless variables with unpredictable outcomes – these were the very things he must anticipate and plan for.
He had described his vision for the Empire as a unity that worlds sought to join. Did the current destabilization of the Commonwealth feed into that vision? On the surface, yes. But one must grow carefully and not risk all gains with incompatible amalgamations. Do not expand so rapidly that systems, processes, and resources cannot cope. Strategic expansion had been the hallmark of his reign. It was not a principle he would abandon. Ztar would no longer create enemies for growth's sake. Instead, if any Commonwealth system came asking for membership and Ztar and his advisors believed it beneficial, he would first ensure the neighboring star systems were comfortable with the nearby change of alliance.
He pulled himself back from the speculative to the real. Par-Sen Alliance merger and Cuquerel alert first. The Emperor would wait to see what transpired on the Commonwealth front while planning for as many scenarios as seemed likely.
Just then, a tone sounded indicating a comm from Jharda. His heart leapt in anticipation. Their long-distance chats were the highlight of each day. Hopefully, she would be returning to Sat'rey soon. With a smile and anticipation, he activated the holo-projector and settled in to hear all she had to share.
###
She circled the stasis pod containing her new test subject. The containment vessel was a bit oversized from standard to accommodate the unique physical features of its occupant – extra wide with a unique support structure for a being not designed to lie on its back for long periods. She was amazed at the likeness to one of her previous test subjects. They could be siblings, or perhaps parent-child.
The female was breathtakingly beautiful to al'Verta's aesthetic tastes despite being a different species. Her mixed-genus staff had similar reactions – an almost instinctual response to the being lying before them. Several scientists had stared transfixed through the clear enclosure for a long time, whispering of myths and legends from their cultural pasts. For reasons unknown, the creature seemed to be universally appealing, as if triggering some deep-seated psychological response. She'd experienced similar sensations at seeing Archangel the first time, though less intense. The female test subject, known only as E5, garnered far stronger reactions. Archangel was magnificent – E5 was…awe-inspiring, even after several years in stasis…and in spite of the fact she was dying.
Yes, the ethereal creature before her, whom Director Sident stated was confirmed as Eshaaru, was slowly expiring. Little by little, her lifeforce was seeping away. E5's file stated that prior to be placed in status, the Eshaaru had begun a form of suicide where the species dissipated their lifeforce energy. It was not a fast process, thankfully for her Etagllot captors. The scientists were able to place the Eshaaru into deep stasis. Unfortunately, that only slowed the process to a crawl – it did not prevent the inevitable.
How she wished they could find a way to save the winged being. So many species spoke of them – heralds of the gods, wise and benevolent visitors, ancient advanced races…saviors of civilizations, bearers of amazing gifts from the heavens. The explanations of their presence in the history of various sentient species were many. But as the Director explained, they were nearly extinct. To emphasize the preciousness of E5, he shared that her newest project resource was one of only a handful encountered over the past 500 years. Eshaaru had long ago ceased interacting with other races. Thus, they had fallen into the realm of myth and legend over time.
"Couldn't they simply be in hiding? The galaxy offers unlimited opportunity for that," she hypothesized.
"I raised the same possibility myself," the man admitted, "but it was explained those Eshaaru that remain search for any of their own people as well. While still a possibility most emigrated from this galaxy, it really doesn't matter. Here they are on the verge of extinction for reasons unknown, at least to me." Sident's voice carried tones of sadness. It was likely the Eshaaru had touched something within him as well. "Bring no harm to this one, Hercjell." The tone changed abruptly with that statement. It was firm and hinted of dire consequences if not heeded.
As any good scientist, she set aside emotions for the serious work at hand. They anticipated having the E5 only a couple more years before she expired. Every day had to count. The ultimate goal of her project had finally been revealed – the Etagllot leaders wanted bionites that could channel the energy the Eshaaru did. They wanted those bionites to be controllable via brain interface. In other words, they wanted to be able to do what Eshaaru did naturally – channel lifeforce energy and do so in vast amounts.
She read the background data on E5 and it had only deepened the mystique. Eshaaru were energy channelers. Bio-conduits allowed energy to pass through their bodies in trickles or massive outflows. Etagllot scientist had discovered Eshaarus tap into a vast energy source from another reality through a dimensional portal that opened naturally to the species whenever they manifested.
One significant concern had not been addressed it the background report. "What of the non-Eshaaru host for the bionites – won't the channeler be destroyed by that amount of energy?" she'd asked.
The Director had given her one of those looks and al'Verta knew what was coming.
"Other teams are working on appropriate hosts. Your team's assignment is to take the bionites you developed in the first stage of the project and refine them to the final specifications using the Eshaaru to calibrate to the correct energy frequency. Beyond that is not your concern."
al'Verta would proceed with extreme caution. She understood all too clearly that her career likely depended on the Eshaaru surviving the time spent in her care. Then she set about preparing for the arrival of the balance of her new team and departure for their new facility beyond the Turzent Empire and away from the unrelenting persecution by imperial forces.
###
Ettwanae loved storms. The wind and lightening sent chills of thrill through her. She sensed it before the darkness brewing beyond the horizon was visible and it had pulled her out while everyone else was busy doing whatever to pass the time within Volu's safe cocoon. There was some danger standing out on the knoll as the tallest object for some distance, but it was part of the thrill. Besides, it would take a powerful direct lightening strike to be fatal. Eshaaru were hard to kill, or that's what Volu had told her on more than one occasion. If beheaded, no amount of enhanced healing could save her. Even if struck, she'd already experienced horrific pain from the failed bonding attempts and physical agony no longer frightened her so much – it passed. Feather damage was of greater concern, but she was heading into a molt and singed feathers would be replaced.
Out on the vast, uninhabited plain, she had decided not to active her cloak. Ettwanae wanted to greet the storm in her natural form. Tucking wings tightly to her back, she ran full out to the top of the rise. Arriving at the crest, she came to a halt, her face to the storm's outflow. Arms stretched wide, wings spread to half their reach, she let the rapidly cooling winds rush over her. The air smelled of ozone and rain, wetted dirt and dust. Thunder rumbled constantly as lightening flashed cloud to cloud and ground to cloud as the dark veil approached. She drank it in and nearly vibrated with the intensity of the atmospheric wildness that spoke to her very soul. The tumultuous skies called to her – come surf my invisible waves, but that was too much risk even for her. And so she remained on the ground, feeling almost drunk as the approaching power flowed to and through her.
It had been a long time since she last stood before nature's wet fury. Too long. She had needed this without knowing it. She loved the days her and Baumpa stood on the roof of their shop and watched the winter rains roll in – lightening slicing the dark sky, thunder reverberating in their chests. Most times, they'd duck inside just ahead of the rain wave. Others times, they'd let themselves be caught by the downpour, laughing with childlike delight as clothes and hair and concealed wings were drenched. Then they'd head inside, dripping water everywhere. "It's water – it will evaporate," Baumpa would say chuckling as they peeled out of their wet garments. He'd help her dry the wings – one of the few times she dropped her cloak for any length of time. While the feathers were water resistant, they still held onto some of the liquid. A few sharp flaps and a gentle toweling down by Baumpa, and the wet feather smell diminished greatly. She loved it when he gently ran the cloth down their white length – it felt so soothing and fatherly. If only she could drop the cloak forever – just be what she was, but her adoptive father was strict about that. No one was to know who she really was.
A boom of thunder shattered the reminiscing. The cracks of lightening were loud now and the resulting thunder pounded against her breast. Wind tore at her clothing, hair, and wings. She pulled her feathered limbs close. Shutting her eyes and extending her awareness, she reached out to the storm and imagined the roaring updrafts and plunging downdrafts. She felt the air boil and the water droplets riding chaotic currents, growing as they collided together until becoming too heavy to remain aloft. The first spits of rain hit her and she opened her eyes to see the storm had advanced dramatically. The air was much cooler and shivers ran through her as cold droplets began pelting her body. The grayish sheet of rain approached rapidly. If she did not return to Volu soon, she'd get drenched. 'And what's wrong with that?' she giggled to herself.
###
Warren wondered where Ettwanae disappeared to and Volu provided the answer. From the bay door, he watched her slender silhouette. Wings spread, golden hair whipping in the wind, arms open as if welcoming the storm, she stood before the darkness of the approaching tempest, lightening dancing in the distance beyond. She was a magnificent sight…it took his breath away.
They'd come to the planet so Warren and she could sate their need for the sky. Est'El was the nearest possibility along their general path to Ayni. The small world had no native population, Volu explained, but had been colonized long ago. The populace was concentrated at the planet's shorelines, with the vast interior plains of its single continent left as a natural preserve.
Once Warren got of taste of Est'El's cerulean sky, he suggested they stay a couple days. The alien planet had granted them a bonus – a thunderstorm. Not until you've been in the sterile environment of a spaceship do you truly appreciate the embrace of weather.
Nature's drum roll rumbling across the plain announced the special event. Tepid, moist wind caressed his face and arms. He took a deep inhale, relishing the smell of the ionized air. 'Yes, it had been a good idea to stay or we would have missed this.' Then a different thought stole his breath. 'Lightening!' On the knoll, Ettwanae was the tallest thing around for miles. 'Shit, doesn't she know how dangerous that is?' She was too far away to yell. "Volu, shouldn't she get off the hill?"
"It would be safer to do so."
Warren was puzzled at the nonchalant reply. "Maybe you should call her?"
"Maybe you should retrieve her."
Volu's on again/off again attitude toward their half-relationship he hadn't yet figured out. Some days, it was as if she wanted Warren gone. Other times, Volu nearly shoved them together. Today, she was obviously pro Warren/Ettwanae. However, getting wet wasn't his favorite activity. In fact, Warren avoided it with a passion that would put most felines to shame – except for showering, which of course was a necessity…or a sensual pleasure, as was the case aboard Volu.
"The storm goes close," Volu prompted at his hesitation. He could almost feel the sly smirk.
"Shit," he chose to vocalize and threw himself into the air, staying low to lessen the odds of becoming a lightening rod.
Rapidly closing the gap between them, Warren's eyes remained transfixed on Ettwanae despite the rain stinging his face. She looked wild and free even just standing there. His throat tightened as that now familiar tingly warmth spread through him. "Ettwanae!" he called out ahead, but it was lost to the wind and thunder. As he started pulling up to land, she whirled toward him, a gleeful grin on her face, the blue eyes dancing with excitement.
"Warren!" she squealed in delight. "Is this wonderful? We're so lucky the storm is happening while we're here!"
The rain was coming much harder now and Warren eyed the rain sheet that was only moments away. He groaned in anticipation of the "joy" of wet feathers. Ettwanae nearly jumped to his side and threw herself into his arms, just ahead of the deluge, laughing. Then it hit and they were instantly soaked to the skin. The rain roared down around them, cool but not cold. She turned her face toward the heavens, catching rain in her mouth, eyes closed. He wasn't sure what to do. She was loving it. He felt like a drowned rat, only with feathers…very large, soaked feathers.
She turned away from the rain, opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as it pelted her face, and looked into his eyes. "Come on, Warren. Baumpa showed me the dance ancient Sat'reyans performed in the first rain of the season." She stepped back and yanked gently on his arm. Another brilliant flash followed instantly by the snap/boom of thunder, startling them both and sending vibrations to the bone. 'Too close,' he worried. She seemed oblivious to the danger.
Ettwanae began a dance that was similar to a Native American one he'd seen once, somewhere that he could no longer recall. She began prancing, rising knees high, arms in swinging in large arcs, head slightly down, and wings spread slightly as a counter-balance to her forward leaps. Golden hair now plastered to her head, the rain followed it down in rivulets to become droplets once again as it flew off the ends of her swaying locks. Wet clothes clung to every curve, every tantalizing female undulation. He sucked in a breath as his body reacted to the sight.
She completed a circle around him before looking up again. "Dance with me!" Her expression matched the exuberant request.
"I- I don't dance." Then he kicked himself. What a lame excuse.
A look of determination came over the beautiful, wet face. "Then we'll try something else!" Another flash and boom. At least they were coming with less frequency and sounded more distant.
She grabbed his hands and started spinning, pulling on him slightly. 'Ah!' He knew this one. Spin as fast as you can around the center point of your joined hands until one or both are too dizzy to stand. Her laughter joined with the rain and they spun. The alien world around them became a blur. Faster still. Powerful Eshaaru and mutant muscles kept hands locked together as they whirled. He started to laugh as well. He hadn't done this since he was a young child. Then suddenly, she let go and they went flying to the ground. The impact took his breath away, but the tall plains grasses provided surprisingly soft landing. Before he had time to sit up, she'd scrambled next to him, pushed him back into the grass, and clamped her mouth down on his.
The term spontaneous combustion sprang to mind. In fact, he briefly considered whether or not the grass would catch fire despite its wet condition. Her hands were all over his body and his over hers, as they plunged into a deep kiss. Lightening pierced the heavens, sending sound waves rolling across the alien prairie. The wind suddenly changed direction as the worst of the storm passed.
Knowledge that the tryst was self-limiting didn't stop them as the urge the mate overwhelmed all caution. She snaked on top of him, rubbing her groin against his growing shaft. Burning need erupted from every pore of his body. He almost didn't know where to grab, what to caress first on the lithe body above him. He wanted to touch everywhere at once. Warren settled for wrapping his arms around her and pressing her as tight to his body as possible without breaking something. The feel of her against his now full erection was agony and bliss at the same time. They needed out of the clothes. Now.
As if reading his mind, Ettwanae began tearing at her clothes, somehow managing to extricate herself from her top while never stopping the kissing and nipping. She never wore a bra. In fact, Warren wasn't sure she knew what that contraption was. Neither did Gatebi, for that matter. It was one less article to shed and once her top lay forgotten in the wet grass, he rewarded her effort by working his mouth from hers, down the neck, licking at some of the rain trickles running down her skin. Lower still, to the collarbone and the small hollow at the base of her throat. She arched up from him in anticipation and invitation.
He quickly took the invitation one step farther and nimbly rolled them over; carefully though to not trap a wing uncomfortably, until she was pinned beneath him. The crystalline-blue eyes looking up at him burned with carnal hunger, their hue deepening as lust grew. She began fumbling at his waistband, her fingers finding their target and popped the button. Warren returned to the path he'd begun until he reached the first full breast, swirling his tongue around the peak. She inhaled sharply and her hips rose up. "Oh, goddess!" she moaned, eyes closing in ecstasy. Yet her fingers never stopped their work. The zipper didn't stand a chance as she simply pulled the two sides of fabric opposite directions and the metal teeth separated with a ripping sound.
Warren took the supple mound of flesh into his mouth and suckled it, causing Ettwanae to moan again and squirm. She tasted wonderful and smelled even better. The scent wasn't anything he could describe, but it moved him somewhere deep within, pushing need and lust to higher levels. All he wanted was to merge with the beautiful creature lying half-naked with him on the open prairie beneath the summer storm.
Hooking his thumbs over the top of her stretchers as she called them, he tugged the unwanted garment over her hips. The aptly named garment slid around her hips as she raised her lower body up to assist. All the while, she was working his less cooperative, rain-soaked jeans down.
The craving for each other after their last disastrous attempt to bond had eaten at their insides, but wariness had kept them apart. Warren now threw caution to the winds as Ettwanae wiggled against him. Urgency crept in – at any moment, Ura could bring things to a screeching halt. In a sudden flurry of movement, they freed themselves from the pesky garments and re-entwined their bodies and mouths with renewed vigor.
Feral instincts rose briefly, apprehensive of their exposed and vulnerable position, but instincts of another variety ignored the warning. Warren let himself go – higher thinking evaporated. He welcomed the mindless abandon with open arms, embracing the pure animalistic impulses. Instincts to protect his mate demanded one last safety check, and he briefly scanned their surroundings, but his mouth never left hers. Finding no lurking threats, wings moved into position automatically to create a canopy of white to shield their actions from unseen eyes.
Riding the carnal waves, he devoured Ettwanae. Hands, fingertips, mouth, lips, tongue – they went everywhere. It felt as though he was burning alive with passionate heat, but it was a delirious burn. "Ettwanae," he breathed her name and it felt like fire leaving his lips. Suddenly, something clicked deep in his brain and in a rush of sensation, everything snapped to crystal clarity. Smell, sight, touch, hearing, taste – all magnified to almost painful intensity. She tasted slightly salty, and smelled of skin and feather, grass and rain. Goosebumps formed on her skin wherever his tongue and lips trailed. There was a musky scent emanating from her that plucked a feral cord. He took her in with even more intensity; sensation nearly drowning him. It mattered not at all. It was right and perfect.
And the rain eased to a gentle shower as one last sharp retort of thunder shook the ground.
She spread wide…wings and legs…offering herself, shuddering from need and want. Ettwanae's fingertips dug into his wing bases, hitting those perfect points, and his wings expanded of their own accord to their full glory as he groaned into her mouth. He couldn't wait any longer. Nature was demanding completion of what they started. Then a corner of his lucid mind regained control and shouted warning as pain began snaking through his gut. Feral senses snapped off as quickly as they'd turned on. The world spun momentarily from the switch in control.
He jerked and somehow found the will to bring things to a halt. Ettwanae caught his gaze with questioning eyes. Her hands left his wings and landed to either side of his face, but she remained silent, biting her lip. Closing his eyes, he lowered his forehead to hers. "We can't," he forced the words passed the panting desire. Body and soul ached for it to be otherwise.
"Try," she whimpered.
He shook his head slightly. Water trickled down his face and dropped to hers – it would hide the hot tears he felt forming from the pain and injustice. "I don't want to hurt you," he explained.
"I don't care! Please try, Warren," she pleaded, wrapping her legs around his to pull him toward where she wanted things to go.
He brought his mouth down on hers to quiet the pleas. If she didn't stop, he'd give in and they'd both regret it – painfully so. He focused on the discomfort in his groin from the need to release to remind him of what not to do. Her kissing was now desperate in a new way, perhaps hoping to override his protest, but he wouldn't allow that to happen. Then, as he knew it would, the non-physical pain from that deep place began to escalate and from the sudden tension in her body, it had hit Ettwanae as well.
Warren eased himself off, noting that the rising Ura was also quite effective in deflating his arousal. The rain was merely a sprinkle as he pulled on the waterlogged jeans. He wouldn't bother with the shoes or T shirt. Ettwanae had sat up as he dressed, but didn't move to do likewise. She simply watched him, her eyes dull as if trying to detach from the hurt. He recognized the expression – those were his eyes for the first four years under Ztar's control. Detachment helps you cope. He prayed he would not see that in her eyes too frequently. Kneeling down, he placed a finger under the delicate chin to force her to look him in the eye.
"We'll find a way, Ettwanae. I want it as much as you – more each day. I'm sorry I messed up this Ura business with Ztar. If I had known what was happening that night…" He could only shake his head at the whys and hows.
Sadness overwrote detachment as she brushed back the wet hair that hung in his eyes. "It was not your fault. Please don't feel guilty." She dropped her hand and reached for her clothes just as a bit of orange sun poked through the dissipating rain clouds, bathing them in its instant glow and warmth. She rose gracefully, with no hint of self-consciousness about standing nude in the middle of the open prairie. 'Does she have any idea how beautiful she is? How perfect?' he wondered as he watched from the ground as she slipped into her clothes, struggling a bit with the stretchers that weren't so accommodating when wet. Longing filled him all over again.
She wrung out her long hair, gave the wings several quick snaps to shed water and grass. Finally rising, he did likewise, hating the weight of wet feathers. "Want to fly back?" She shook her head and started back toward Volu. He watched her leave him behind with a heavy heart.
"It was wonderful while it lasted," he said to her retreating form. She stopped, but didn't turn immediately. He noticed her wings rise and fall slightly, as if she'd taken a deep breath and then exhaled. When she turned, he was greeted with a shining smile that put the sun to shame.
"It was, wasn't it?"
'God, I'd give away everything for that smile.' The intensity of feeling behind the errant thought startled him. Was he in love? Had it happened? Too soon to be certain, Warren decided. He returned the smile, then, "Race ya!" he shouted and took off like a dart, loving the surprise on her face as he sailed past.
The wind caught up her laughter as she took off after him.
###
Phai was pleased with the progress made over the past several weeks. The Eshaaru pair possessed a complete amulet. Of course, the pair could not fully activate the amulet until they could soulbind, but that problem was solvable. They had also discovered the power they could conjure together and its deadly affect on the Eilu. Archangel was close to extrication from the complication on Tchutchka Centrus. Their chosen unifier, Ztar, had been given a glimpse of the enemy and of the unseen forces working to influence events in his favor. The Etagllot scientists were making rapid strides toward realization of Project One. Omnipotent was the one area of less progress, but the completed amulet raised hopes of future successes on that front. The Commonwealth was continuing to destabilize, and well-placed influences were turning the eyes of restless systems toward the Turzent Empire.
Yes, Phai and the rest of the Council were generally pleased with the progress of their Trient. The question remained whether or not it was progress at a rapid enough pace. Would they be ready in time? Would critical mass be garnered before it was too late? What of the other two Trients? Would all the pieces be in place before The Dark Coming began?
The Elder of Elders circled her holographic Gantt chart. It was more complex than a simple chart, but the idea was the same – map progress of tasks against a timetable; only this timetable had an unknown end date. So much left to accomplish and perhaps little time in which to succeed. Most of the Elders felt The Dark Coming would not initiate for another hundred standard years or longer. She and Elder Kel felt the time was much nearer. Mistakes of the past would not be repeated and she believed warning signs would be suppressed this round in an attempt to lull them into believing they had the luxury of time. The other Elders believed it was not possible to suppress or mute the signs.
It all came down to speculation. No one alive knew. Perhaps the ancient U'larr would have known, but much of their knowledge was lost. The disastrous fallout from last Dark Coming had shattered U'larr culture, nearly extinguishing the great race and their avatars, the Esha'Aru. Nearly. So much time lost to the darkness of civilization collapse. So much sacrificed to simply survive. So much knowledge to be regained in a too short period. Desperation can lead to harsh methods.
Her predecessors had made mistakes and enemies in their desperation, making her and the current Council's work all that more challenging. Many paths were set upon and could not be altered, but those that could be shifted to gentler tactics, she and the new Council had. Sadly, the rift between Shozen and Esha'Aru was beyond bridging. If only… Phai sighed and shook her head.
Phai dismissed the holo chart with her mind and made her way outside to the colorful garden. Taking in a deep breath of sweetly scented air, she felt immediately calmer. The lush garden was a luxury she allowed herself on the otherwise desert planet she had chosen to dwell. Approaching the gravity defying vertical reflecting pool that formed the backdrop of her private refuge, she gazed into its liquid depths to view the form she had taken. It was a pleasing form – lithe beauty that belied its physical power. She felt the ancients would be pleased with her choice.
With sharp eyesight far exceeding most races, she focused on the reflection of her crystalline-blue eyes. Intense. Deep. Pure of color. Like that of the Esha'Aru. Or rather, as she personally believed, Esha'Aru eyes were like the Zchezuans…a likely donor race for the genetic recipe used in creating the winged avatars. No proof of her theory, but she liked to believe it was so. Perhaps someday, when they had the luxury of indulging such curiosities, she'd focus resources on determining all the ingredients in the genetic recipe. Not an easy task as the DNA used was altered and manipulated to realize the desired outcome down to the smallest molecule, but it would be satisfying to have the entire list of donor species.
She immersed herself in the watery images captured in the pool, its gentle undulations working their soothing magic. Phai found her thoughts drifting back to Archangel and Ettwanae. The only known (probable) Eshaaru pair in the Trient. So much rode on their unwitting shoulders. A frown crossed the perfect Zchezuan face. The couple faced many potential dangers, the greatest of which was the Eilu. If the Eilu had doubts before about the worth of the pairing, those questions were moot after Neu.
Sighing, the Elder knew they must be extra vigilant in monitoring of the pair. If captured or killed by the Eilu, a key element in the coming conflict would be lost. The backup plan, Project Failsafe, was close to success, yet there was no guarantee the constructs would be accepted. And so, at the top of Phai's list was protection of Archangel and Ettwanae, yet they must do so from a discreet distance. The pair must believe without doubt that they were in control of their own fate or the effort was meaningless.
To protect, she must know their whereabouts. For that, she would turn to the one individual who only rarely failed. Den-neer. A product of advanced genetics. His genome carefully selected for just the right combination of traits – telekinesis, telepathy, agility of mind and body, strength deceptively hidden within a lithe form. He got that last from Phai herself. Raised personally by her from the incubation tube through accelerated childhood into adulthood, his abilities were nurtured and his mind and body trained under her personal direction. She loved him as a son. A powerful and lethal son.
Den-neer matured to become the personal weapon and operative of the Council. Phai entrusted him with more knowledge than any other beyond the Elders. He was the only operative who moved freely among the various factions and players in the elaborate and deadly game, but was truly known by none. The only operative, witting or otherwise, that knew for whom he ultimately was working. The singular tool in the Elders' arsenal that knew who they really were. It was a secret he would not reveal upon torture or threat of death.
Phai turned from the pool and moved back inside her sparsely furnished abode. Yes, she had entrusted Den neer with a single mission from Neu forward – watch over the Eshaaru. The trick, though, was knowing where they were. That is were the vast network built by the Elders over thousands of years came into play. There were very few places within the Trient the Eshaaru could go without eventually being detected.
###
They were enjoying hungry, ravaging, wild sex. The pressure-cooker of built-up sexual tension released as gut-wrenching need was at long last sated, and it was joyous. He devoured her, and she him, as they finally became one. He plunged in and out of her in delirious rapture, and her orgasmic cry like an angel's siren call. Then they wanted more and began anew.
Without warning, Ettwanae was savagely ripped from his arms, screaming in panic as black tendrils ensnared her. He was desperate to reach her, but unbreakable black strands held him immobile despite frantic struggles. Her screams pierced to the soul. His frenzied cries joined hers as she was dragged from sight into the darkness while he was powerless to save her. A primal scream erupted from the depths of his being, shattering the dream and sleep.
Warren bolted upright in bed, heart racing, and breathing quick and shallow. He had no time to catch his breath when Aru need slammed into him like a tsunami, forcing a groan from deep within him. "Ettwanae," he moaned her name as sexual desire rammed into overdrive.
He curled tightly into himself against the raging demands that consumed his body. Every fiber of his being demanded her, threatening to shatter willpower, evaporate logic, and trump reason. This was the worst it'd been. It frightened Warren to his core. 'Is this normal?' He felt as if fire burned under his skin. His groin throbbed and lust was a physical force that shook his body. 'Oh god, what if I lose control? How do fight this down?'
Tremors rippled through his body as another instinctual wave slammed into him. 'Ugghh!' Aru demanded and he must obey. To hell with what Ura denied! To hell with the searing pain that was the only possible outcome. Mindless instinct was sweeping him away like an angry river and he desperately reached for whatever mental rocks his could summon to stop the tumbling, but the fingers of his will couldn't hold on. Deep, carnal urges entwined themselves around his higher brain as they sought to wrest control. A snippet of recognition flitted through consciousness – feral brain!
The animal within pounded at the mental gate; the lock was giving way. He shuddered as the last of his determination slipped from his grasp when the third wave crushed him. She must be his. Mate. Breed. As the final shreds of higher thinking dissolved, he claimed one last moment lucidity.
"Volu, don't…open…the door…no matter what!" he cried out, his voice more of a growl – something not quite human.
The room drew in around him. Sight, smell, hearing – senses snapped to a clarity that was superhuman even for Warren. Her scent filled the air and it spoke of sexual readiness. A single purpose drove him, one reason for existence. Get out. Get to the female. Mate. He sprang off the bed toward the door and slammed into it. Blocked. Fists pummeled the taut membrane as snarls of rising frustration rolled from his throat.
He stepped back, narrowed eyes darting around the room. He needed something. What, his feral brain did not know. Just something. To hit with. Something…
Then a sound came from everywhere and froze him in place, only the eyes moved as he searched frantically for the threat. Crouching low, wings spread into attack position as the sound came again. Zeroing on the source, he sprang intent on killing the intruder.
Volu flinched as Warren attacked her vocal orifice.
###
Ettwanae was dreaming. She was in her lover's arms basking in the afterglow of a perfect mating. Love overflowed as she smiled at him. It was only slightly troubling that the man wasn't Warren for in her dream she knew Warren would be happy for her. Happy she'd be able to couple without pain. Then she looked more closely at the man. Who was he? Suddenly, fear began to rise.
"Who are you?" she demanded, struggling to escape his grip. He was not letting go.
"Does it matter? He can't be with you – I can."
She began to fight more desperately. "Let me go!" she yelled, but still he held her fast.
"You are mine now. Don't resist!"
Panic drove her to kick, bite, punch and he still held on.
"Warren! Help me!" With every ounce of her strength, she fought to escape. "War-ren!"
Ettwanae jolted up, shaking and sucking in air. 'Just a dream,' she told herself, her heart pounding against her chest. 'A dream.'
/ My Poda, you are safe. / Volu's soothing mental voice was like warm honey over her mind.
She nodded. / I know. I'm okay. /
Several moments passed in silence.
/ We have a situation down the corridor, though. /
Ettwanae was immediately alarmed. / What kind of situation? /
/ Warren is not himself. He has become violent. /
"What?" Ettwanae asked aloud in disbelief.
"He is attempting to break out of his room after he told me not to let him out."
Ettwanae was confused. "Why would he tell you not to let him out? I don't understand."
"Neither did I. He also woke from a dream, but then his bio signs became extremely elevated and his hormonal levels deviated from normal. I am also detecting that the frontal lobe of his brain is suppressed, while his limbic system is far more active."
She tossed aside the blanket and crawled out of bed. "Are you saying something is wrong with his brain?" The thought of Warren being ill drove panic straight to her core as she headed for the door not bothering to dress.
"I believe that the primitive portion of his brain has taken control."
As soon as her chamber door dilated open, she could hear frightening noises coming from down the corridor. She ran to the entrance of the small storage room turned bedchamber. Warren was pounding from the other side. Odd animal-like sounds sent chills down her spine. "Oh, goddess!" she called out. "Warren! Warren, it's Ettwanae. Are you okay?" An anguished howl/growl response further frightened her.
/ This can't be Pkaw'ne, can it? / Ettwanae projected as she stared at the door that vibrated from the pummeling it was withstanding.
/ Parts of his brain are behaving as such, but other areas are not. Warren is being too aggressive and Pkaw'ne occurs only between bound pairs. I have no record of in my Eshaaru medical memories of this specific behavioral display. /
Flint was the first to stumble out of his room at the raucous. "What the fuck is going-" He stopped in mid sentence and his eyes widened at the sight of a naked Ettwanae. "Shit!" He ducked back into his room at lightening speed. "Sorry, Twae! Sorry! But what the hell is happenin'?" he yelled from his room.
"Warren is ill."
"That's not ill, that's berserk!"
Animal-like screeches followed their exchange that had obviously served to further agitate the creature on the other side of the door.
Wrapped in a robe, Gatebi padded down the hall, her face a mix of concern and grogginess. "Ettwanae?"
"It's Warren – something has happened to him!" Her voice was shakier than she meant it to be, fear growing with each fist against the door and every guttural growl. "Volu, let me in. Maybe I can calm him," Ettwanae requested in quiet tones.
"That would be unwise. He is not in control of himself."
"He won't hurt me. I know it."
"Warren would not, but that is not Warren at the moment." Volu's concern came through clearly in the whispered words.
"Perhaps talking to him?" Gatebi suggested softly glancing toward Warren's door. It had gone strangely quiet.
Ettwanae nodded and sank to the floor, her shaking legs unable to hold her up. Gatebi knelt next to her.
###
The sounds from the beyond the barrier were low and consistent. Some of the sounds belonged to what he wanted, that much registered, but there were others. Caution. Territorial threat. He quieted to listen. Was she in danger? Protect!
###
/ Poda, I can stun him or apply a mild shock to his brain, either could rebalance brain activity. /
/ I want to try Gatebi's suggestion first. If that doesn't work, then we'll try shocking him. /
/ Agreeable for the moment. However, we should not allow the condition to continue long. /
"Warren, can you hear me?" Nothing. / What's he doing? /
/ You have his attention. He may still recognize your voice. /
"Warren, it's me, Ettwanae. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you come to the door? Sit down?" She didn't really know what to say, only that she needed to sound calm. No response. She leaned closer to the door and spoke even more softly. "Warren, please come and sit by the door. We can talk – or I'll just talk and you listen. Please, Warren?"
Still nothing.
###
Animal Warren cocked his head. She did not sound fearful or injured, but a barricade stood between them. Danger signals fading quickly in his primitive brain, carnal urges resurrected. He edged toward the obstruction. Memories of prior futile attempts were not stored. Leaping at the barrier to his mate, he attacked it as if he hadn't done so before.
###
Ettwanae and Gatebi jumped when Warren collided with the door and fists began beating in renewed vigor, complete with hair-raising howls.
"Warren, no! Please…be calm." Tears filled Ettwanae's eyes. What was happening to her intended?
/ Ettwanae, I must act. I fear the longer his brain is operating in this mode, the more difficult it will be to bring him out of it. /
"Do it, Volu," she agreed, her chest tightening to the point she could barely draw a breath. What if they couldn't bring Warren back?
###
Warren's first awareness was blurry faces above him, but they snapped to clarity almost instantly. Ettwanae, Gatebi, and Flint all hovered over him. Confusion came next.
"What…?" he croaked. His mouth was pasty and his throat dry.
"Thank you, goddess!" Ettwanae breathed.
She sounded extremely relieved. "What happened?" he asked again, attempting to sit up. Lying on the floor atop his wings was not comfortable. As the trio helped him upright, momentary dizziness swept over him. His brain felt weird – almost numb. He shook his head.
"You had an…episode." Ettwanae offered vaguely, deep concern in the form of a frown marred the perfect face.
He tried remembering what happened, but recall was elusive. A flash here, a snippet there, mostly feelings of…what? Anger? Lust? It didn't make sense. As his mind began to process the situation, the questions started. "What's that mean? What time is it? How'd I get on the floor?"
"First, let's get you in bed, then we'll answer questions," Ettwanae ordered, wrapping her arm around behind and under the wings to haul him up almost entirely on her own. He quickly found his legs like wet noodles and not to be trusted. His head still felt odd – pressurized – like an eardrum that needed to pop.
Settling him on the bed and pushing him back gently into the pillows, Ettwanae pulled up the covers. Her robe popped open to expose her chest as she fussed. Brilliant lust flared in a microsecond eclipsing thought and reason as the pressure in his brain released. He grabbed and pulled her down into a fiery kiss. MATE! His mouth clamped around hers, but the object of his driving need mumbled and attempted to push away. Her wings rose behind her as she tried to wrestle free. A hand behind her head kept the mouth in place and an arm around her waist held her body onto his. Fire burned under his skin and in his groin. The taste of her mouth and the feel of her breasts against his bare chest sent primal desire soaring.
"God, there they go again! Let 'em fuck – that's all I can say!" Flint said, throwing his hands in the air signaling disgust. "Worse than a couple bitches in heat," he said departing the room shaking his head.
"Flint, help me!" Gatebi yelled after the teen.
"No – let them go at it; then this shit'll be over!"
"Flint!" Gatebi called again, but he turned into his room without a look in her direction.
Ettwanae's muffled cries prodded Gatebi into action. She jumped next to Ettwanae, trying break Warren's grip. "Warren! Let her go!" she shouted, pounding at his hands when pulling failed.
Warren distantly heard the other female and felt her attempts to dislodge his grip. He would not be distracted. Without warning, pain shot through him causing every nerve in his body to scream and he yowled at the agony in a voice neither Human nor Eshaaru.
###
Ettwanae broke free and jumped back, bringing her hand to her smarting lips. Any bruising would fade quickly, but pain wasn't what had her shaking. It was what she felt in the crushing kiss – something completely out of control. If that is what he had wanted as he raged earlier on the other side of the door, thank the goddess Volu followed his wishes. If he'd gotten to her… She didn't want to think about what might have happened.
/ Poda, I stunned him, but more gently. The limbic section of his brain has gone back to normal activity levels once again. /
/ Will it hold this time? /
/ I cannot predict. /
While he recovered, she thanked Gatebi for her efforts and sent her worried friend out of the room amid concerned protests. Looking at Warren curled into a fetal position on the bed, fear wrapped around her. Not fear for her safety, but dread of what could possibly be wrong. He must have known what was coming to have warned Volu. Had this happened before?
As she eased down on the bed, he uncurled to look up at her – his eyes dark with pain and something else. Then he scooted back to the opposite side of the mattress.
"Stay back," he said in a strangled whisper. "I- I don't know what's happening. I might hurt you."
His face reflected repulsion and confusion. Waves of protectiveness swept through her.
"You won't hurt me, Warren. It's okay," she reassured, reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes. He jerked away and then nearly tumbled out of the bed, only to sink to the floor against the wall.
"I lied, I think I know what's happening…" he said, color draining from his face. "My worst nightmare."
Ettwanae edged toward his side of the bed. / Volu? What do I do? He looks…devastated. /
/ Talking is usually a good starting point. /
/ I know that, but what do I say? How do I handle this? /
/ Let your heart guide you. /
Ettwanae decided to lie on her stomach on the mattress to be at his head level as he cowered on the floor. As much as she wanted to take him into her arms, she wouldn't touch him knowing it would only make things worst. "Talking about nightmares helps."
"Not this kind – this is not a figment of my unconscious. This is part of me I can't control." He wasn't looking at her, but down at the floor, shame radiating off him. "Are you hurt? Gatebi? Flint? God, if I hurt anyone…"
"Warren, you did not injure me or the others. You were not trying to hurt anyone. What do you remember?"
He rubbed his eyes and a tremor ran through him so intensely the disheveled hair hanging across his face quivered. "Just bits and pieces – emotions more than anything. I think…I think I tried to get out of here?" he asked more than stated. She nodded, but he still wasn't looking at her. "I needed to find you. I needed-" He stopped speaking and the wings came forward to wrap around him. "Leave me alone for a while, Ettwanae. I don't want to talk about it."
The voice didn't sound convincing. Did he did actually want to talk on some level? Something told her that was the case.
/ Volu, any insights as to what happened? /
/ The lower brain is the root of instinctual behaviors – survival and reproduction. That part of Warren's brain overwhelmed his higher brain where cognitive thought resides. My medical knowledge says that many sentient beings have such a brain structure, including Eshaaru. However, I find no memories of Eshaarus suffering from a disruption in the normal balance between the two levels. Without more intense scanning of Warren's brain structure, we cannot know why his limbic system overran the frontal lobe of his cerebral cortex. /
/ How it happened really doesn't matter at the moment, does it? /
/ No. Warren's bio readings indicate extreme emotional distress; that is the immediate issue. /
"Warren, I don't want to leave you alone right now. If you don't want to talk, we'll just sit quietly."
He didn't agree, but didn't object either. She took that as a good sign. And so she rested her head on her arms and simply lay there, listening to him breathe. What thoughts was he struggling with? What was he feeling? 'What would you be feeling?' she asked herself. 'Embarrassment, fear of losing control again, and fear of hurting those around me for starters. Maybe a feeling of being exposed, especially if it was part of me I hoped no one ever saw.' The minutes passed as she contemplated how she could help and when she should speak if he did not. Then a heavy sigh interrupted her ruminations.
"You should take me back to Earth. You've got the nodes, we accomplished that much. If something between us is triggering my feral brain, we can't stay together."
The idea shocked her. "What do you mean?"
Still not looking at her, he spoke to the floor. "That part of my brain has taken over before, but always during a hard molt when I'm emotionally ragged from the hormonal fluctuations. Maybe the same sort of setup is being created by the pull between us from the Aru/Ura business. That could weaken the wall that holds back that part." He sighed deeply, his breath shaky. "I am a feral, Ettwanae. A blend of Human and animal. This is a problem most ferals face. Some more successfully keep the animal part in check. Others aren't so fortunate."
Finally, the eyes moved up to meet hers. She saw much in those eyes – worry, pain, shame.
"I've been one of the lucky ones – I usually don't have problems with that side, except during molting and then only the more intense ones. But now…I don't want to risk another episode; I could put everyone in danger. I could hurt someone." The shoulders sagged and Ettwanae added defeated to the list of emotions. "I sorry, Ettwanae, it's better if I leave."
###
He had weighed the pros and cons as he sat on the floor with Ettwanae watching quietly. He considered the safety of not only Ettwanae, but Flint and especially Gatebi. What if in an Aru-driven feral rage, he raped the Alcab? He'd never forgive himself. It would not matter in the least that he wasn't in control. It wouldn't matter if they couldn't actually copulate because of anatomical differences. The horror wouldn't be lessened for her. Nor for Ettwanae even though he might be prevented from completing the act by Ura, the attempt alone would be traumatic.
Yes, Volu could stop him, but only if they were aboard or nearby when it happened. What if a feral episode occurred off-ship?
No question – he had to leave. That meant giving up his slim hope of finding a remedy for the nannites. Yet he'd lived with them for years and they had remained dormant. And so the decision was made. All he had to do was convince Ettwanae it was for the best. He wasn't meeting with much success despite having explained his reasoning.
"Warren, no! Please, don't go! Please! I'm not afraid – you wouldn't hurt any of us." Her voice shook as she pleaded.
His room was oppressive and too warm and it had nothing to do with the environmental controls. "You don't know that. Even I don't that know. I won't risk it."
"But Volu can stop you – like she did before. Bring you back." She snatched up his hand and squeezed as they sat face-to-face on the floor. She had jumped off the bed as soon as he said he should go.
"And if it happens when we're not on Volu? No, I can't stay. We got the nodes, there's little more I can do unless we are bonded and that's not happening despite our best efforts. You need to find another soulbound or some other way to locate your people." He pulled his hand gently from hers. Aru was not something he wished to evoke.
"Another soulbound?" she sounded and looked incredulous. "That's not how it works, Warren. You and I are meant to be together – don't you realize how remarkable that is? With so few of us left…we may even be the last of our kind. To be also soulbounds is beyond coincidence. Ozshi'wanae's own hand has guided us to each other."
Warren recoiled at her words. She obviously still believed him to be Eshaaru. "That is your belief. You and I are not a we. You are Eshaaru. I am Human. That could be the true crux of the problem with the bonding – have you considered that? Maybe we'll never bond because Ura knows I'm not Eshaaru."
Ettwanae looked as through he'd struck her. That Warren had never wavered from proclaiming his Humanity didn't seem to soften the blow. His chest tightened in empathy, but this had to be done.
Her head dropped and she stared down at her hands. "But I thought with everything…I thought perhaps you'd come to believe…"
"No matter how much you wish for me to be Eshaaru, I am not. What we are is a wonderful, amazing coincidence." He reached over and tilted her face up to his with a fingertip. "I wish it could be different between us, Ettwanae. You are joyful, intelligent, and beautiful inside and out, but our being together is bringing out in me something I cannot control. Yes, Volu could possibly keep the rest of you safe, but what if one day she can't put the genie back in the bottle?" He knew instantly she didn't understand the phrase. "What if one day, Warren doesn't reemerge? I've have seen that in a feral before and it is a frightening fate."
Her face clouded and he wondered if she was weighing her needs to be with him against the possibility of that need eventually leading to losing him completely. He hoped so; hoped she cared enough to let go of her dream of them together. She turned her head away. Her body shuddered. Warren waited patiently for her to speak again, watching her work to control the tears as he blinked back his own.
"What about the nannites? Don't you want to be free of them?" Her voice was the merest whisper.
"Of course I do, but I won't let selfish desire endanger you or the others."
Thick silence filled the room. She was contemplating again and he gave her the time to do so. Her crystalline-blue eyes searched his; reflecting shifting emotions, and then they closed in resignation. Finally, with an unsteady sigh, she stood.
"I love you," she whispered with tears falling down the perfect face. "I will always love you, Warren."
And she left. Warren's heart went with her. In that moment, the last of his doubts evaporated. "And I love you, Ettwanae," he confessed to the empty room as a sharp pain stabbed deep into his chest.
###
Ettwanae made her way to her quarters in a daze. Nothing seemed real. He couldn't be leaving. With everything they'd been through in their short time together, their bond had grown – she felt it. She crawled onto the bed, drew her knees up in a hug and the wings around her in a feathery shield. While tears flowed, sobs did not come. She was too numb for that.
"My Poda."
The gentle tones wrapped around her as softly as her wings. She didn't respond – too much effort. Volu did not speak again, perhaps sensing Ettwanae needed solitude. Warren's words replayed in her mind over and over. She searched desperately for any flaw in his reasoning, but it all came down to a choice to protect others. He was protecting them from himself. If Aru drives were indeed the cause of his feral side emerging, then she must let go to protect him from her as well.
"Volu, is he right that Aru's demand to mate caused the episode? Is that possible?"
There was hesitation, then "Yes, Poda, it is possible. That constant stress may be eroding the natural barriers between the two parts of his brain. Mating urges reside in the lower brain and have been a constant stressor since he joined us."
Then a spark of hope. "Can't you do something? Isn't there a way you can suppress it, like you did my first mating urge when we healed you?"
"That was a temporary situation where I could use electrical impulses to stun the portion of your brain involved, but only for a short time. In Warren, I would need to suppress the area long term. The ramifications could include destruction of his sex drive and may cause brain injury or even death."
"But we heal, Volu! His brain would heal," she argued.
"Yes, it might, but Warren is reacting differently than my medical knowledge can explain. I fear the tampering would result in unexpected complications."
The words were a death sentence for her dreams. She wouldn't risk him falling permanently into an animal state or worse because she wanted him with her. She loved him too much. Ettwanae told herself not to make him feel guilty or do anything to make the situation harder than it was. 'Let him go gracefully,' she told herself even though her heart was shattering.
Then within her white cocoon, Ettwanae sobbed, wishing her Baumpa were there to hold her as he did when she was little and hurting.
###
Monitoring through her visual and audio sensor array, Volu ached with empathic pain. How she wished she could embrace her Poda in comfort. There were times when she wasn't what Ettwanae needed. Ettwanae needed another Eshaaru. Ettwanae needed Warren.
###
A/N: Next time…last chapter of Soulbound. The second blow is about to slam into Warren.