For those of you who really are partial to Gur'rung, you will be pleased with this chapter. I can't believe it's Chapter 10 already! I'm really excited that we have landed on the training planet. There will be many more exciting chapters coming soon, I promise!
Read & Review! (You all are wonderful readers!)
The day of their departure from the training base was chaotic. A'chide had woken her up earlier than usual, instructing her to eat quickly and follow him. Gur'rung had called his attention away several times throughout their short breakfast. After that, they had joined the others in the mess hall and her master had disappeared into the madness of the crowd leaving her to aimlessly stand in a corner, out of the way.
Camilla yawned and scratched at the implant on her neck. Her hopes had been to take a final shower before they left; one could only guess when the next opportunity would arise for her to bathe. Her plans had not gone as she hoped. She remained in her plain shift with bare feet and tangled hair. But, she would soon be reunited with her trunk.
A loud chuff startled her and the woman spotted Gur'rung moving in her direction. A sigh escaped her lips as the second-in-command called out to her, "Come, you will be under my instruction until we reach the training planet."
Camilla's eyed widened. Immediately she asked, "What do you mean? Where is A'chide?"
"You ask too many questions," was the Yautja's response.
He motioned for her to walk ahead of him, but the woman remained rooted to the ground. She would not be bullied by the alien, and A'chide had told her of no such plan.
"I said, where is A'chide?"
The tone she used was even, but there was an underlying edge to it.
Gur'rung growled, his hair tendrils flaring slightly, "He has more important matters than tending to an Ooman-pet. Now come willingly, or I will drag you."
She rolled her eyes, but followed him. Without knowing for sure where A'chide was, she wouldn't dare anger Gur'rung. Her bravery depended heavily on her master's presence. They seemed to be moving with the crowd towards the loading dock. Out of the great windows, Camilla saw a ship nearly several times the size of a normal Yautja ship. The unblooded were marching in line onto the ship, however she couldn't see A'chide.
Her caretaker growled at those who got in their way as the pair walked through the loading bay. Camilla kept her head down, nervously trying to figure out what was going on out of the corner of her eye. As she moved towards the great ship the unblooded were boarding, a claw sharply pinched her shoulder. The woman cried, "Ow, let go!"
Gur'rung pulled her away from the massive ship towards a much smaller personal vehicle parked on the other side of the dock.
"You are to come with me, we take A'chide's ship."
Camilla shrugged off his grasp hissing and shooting the massive Yautja a glare. He was indefinitely rude and she was growing rather annoyed with his manner. All he needed to do was talk to her; speak to her like she was a capable being. A'chide at least showed her such a privilege.
They walked onto the private ship and the woman's heart fell when she did not spot her master. There was another Yautja aboard, a greyish-yellow crewman standing in salute at Gur'rung's arrival aboard. He clicked out their instructions – when the training vessel departed, they would follow.
Their pilot departed into the cockpit leaving the Yautja and woman alone. C
Camilla held her weapon in her hands having finished the contents of the glass vial that morning. Her stomach felt heavy with food and medicine and she leaned against a wall waiting for Gur'rung to yell at her again. The second-in-command was looking at a data screen, busying himself and unquestionably ignoring her. She wondered when she would see A'chide again.
After tinkering with the data screen, Gur'rung disappeared into the cockpit, as well. Slowly, Camilla slumped to the ground running her hand up and down the smooth weapon. She played with the weight throwing the condensed pole from one hand to another. The Yautja reappeared, "We are to depart now. It will not be long."
There was no jolting lift-off or sudden lurch signaling their departure; the craft of these ships was truly spectacular. The young woman continued busying herself with the weapon in her hands fighting off her boredom.
"That is not a toy."
Here comes a lecture, she thought. Choosing to overlook the Yautja's statement, she remained balancing the weapon playfully.
Gur'rung grabbed the weapon from her grasp as Camilla objected, "Give it back, it is mine!"
From her position on the floor, Gur'rung towered over seven feet taller than her. Camilla gulped remembering that there was no one aboard to protect her. The brave little voice inside her head countered that A'chide would expect her unharmed when they arrived to the training planet, though. Her mind reasoned that her master would be displeased if she arrived battered and bruised.
Standing, Camilla looked Gur'rung straight in the eye repeating, "I said give it back, it is mine!"
For a moment, it was a stand-off. Camilla was tremoring from anticipation of the second-in-command's move. Would he strike her? Claw her face off with his massive nails? She had defied A'chide before, stood up to him in such a manner, but her master had never resorted to violence. Gur'rung seemed to take a heavy breath before throwing the weapon back at her. The pole hit her firmly in her stomach, but Camilla caught it. Surprise was evident on her face and she attempted to hide her grin. Gur'rung huffed, and then thrilled softly before stomping to the metal table in the center of the ship's cabin; turning his back on her.
The woman sunk to the floor once more, her smile even wider. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless over the second-in-command. A'chide would be proud.
Upon his arrival to A'chide's home, the woman had been quite frightened of the grey warrior. From this vantage point, Camilla was able to openly observe Gur'rung in a way she had not before. He stood a hand-span shorter than A'chide though his shoulders were equally broad and his hair tendrils equally long. There was a bit more youth about him, where A'chide carried himself with dignity and reserve, Gur'rung still had the cockiness of a Yautja in his prime. His forehead crest was speckled with tiny black spikes, and his arms were spattered with scars.
The blood marking on his crest was the same as A'chide's. She contemplated how long they had known each other; her master appeared to be a fatherly figure to Gur'rung.
It only took several hours before the pilot signaled for landing.
The doors to the ship were opened and Camilla felt a warm humidity fill her lungs as they stepped out of the doors. She marveled at the vastness of the land before them. It was a lush environment of tangled trees and clay-like dirt. The sky was a deep auburn speckled with violet colored clouds. Her breathing was becoming deep and she was beginning to feel lightheaded. Wavering, the girl took a shaky step forward out onto the land.
Gur'rung growled, "The atmosphere is thicker than on the mainland. We will give you equipment at camp."
Camilla nodded. They were to rendezvous with A'chide at the main base camp. She was giddy to see her master again. Gur'rung led her slowly through a thicket of trees, the pilot of the ship following closely behind Camilla. In the darkness of the trees, she could barely see her way and tripped over an exposed root. The second-in-command laughed, screeching while the woman scrambled to regain her footing.
The main base camp was at the foot of a gigantic rock structure. The campsite appeared old, like it had been used many times before for the purpose of blooding ceremonies. In the sky above the campsite loomed the vessel that had carried the unblooded. All of them were busy doing something. The medics were setting up tents while the young warriors were laying out sleeping arrangements. There was a great fire in a pit near the center of the camp with several smaller fire pits littered throughout the area.
Near the front of camp stood A'chide, and Camilla could not help but rush over to his side. Gur'rung growled in disapproval, but she did not care. Her master was dressed in armor with his chest and appendages exposed in their fishnet encasing. He grunted, "You found yourself safely here, I commend you for dealing with Gur'rung."
Camilla felt safer already in the presence of the great Yautja. Her head was still fuzzy from the atmospheric change, and her body was beginning to break into a sweat. Despite the stifling heat, there was a chill clinging to the woman's skin and she was beginning to shake. Ever cognizant, A'chide motioned for Camilla to follow him. The woman spotted her trunk near a pallet of furs. She fell to her knees opening the small case that carried her old belongings. Everything was as it had been packed, and she ran her hands over the soft fabrics of her clothes.
"Those will not be suitable for the hunt, you will wear these."
Her master dropped a bundle next to her. It was several sets of jumpsuits in a fashion similar to the one Mitchell had worn in the medic's suite. Camilla nodded in appreciation at A'chide, scrambling to modestly change into her new clothes. Gur'rung reappeared as she finished lacing up her suit. In his hands was a weird looking muzzle. She grimaced as he handed it to her.
A'chide explained, "It will help regulate your breathing. Wear it and do not take it off."
The breathing mask covered half of her face; resting right at the bridge of her nose, covering her chin, and secured behind her ears. Over her mouth and nose was ventilated opening. Almost instantly, Camilla gulped at the air now available to her.
"Unfortunately, it will not stop your incessant chatter," Gur'rung griped as the Yautjas left her alone to acquaint herself with her new lodgings.
She was situated far from the unblooded and close to the medic's area. Mitchell could be seen among the Yautja staff. His bright red hair was evident against the mostly brown background. The humans accompanying the medics were all wearing masks similar to hers. Her new suit was comfortable and fought off the chill that had bothered her before. Before she would let herself forget, Camilla found the medicine P'oshka had given her. With that worry out of the way temporarily, she continued to rifle through her trunk. Her plain shift dresses would be useless for now, as well as her more ornate ceremonial robe. She laced up a pair of soft-soled shoes she had packed. There was also a belt that she had used when cooking. One of the loops that had previously held a knife would hold her weapon securely.
The next thing Camilla did was locate her comb. She winced as the teeth tore through knots and tangles, but eventually her hair was normal once more. With expert fingers, she braided it back, tying it up with a loose piece of fabric so that it was out of the way. Wiping her brow, the girl sat back on her pallet feeling proud of her work. Her head was swimming still, not from lack of oxygen but from the overwhelming feeling of being at her destination.
Looking around the camp, she knew that this was her life now, and she would work hard to figure it out.