Claimed: The Warriors of Nur (21 page)

“So,” Atif turned back to Donagh, “how goes
Mexxeja
Katalogo?”

Donagh smiled, his eyes lighting with pleasure.  “Quite well.”

“It’s with surprise that I found you here, brother.  I’d have expected your engagements at the court to keep your attention,” he teased.  Of the five brothers, Donagh was the most sociable.  The charmer of the clan.  He never lacked for female attention, of the mated and un-mated variety.  Most of his time was spent avoiding the manipulations of
Mati
-minded sires, a fact that garnered much ribbing from his siblings.  As a puerile he’d been awkward, his appeal non-existent.  His time with the
Tobba
transformed him, so now everything about him shrieked “capable.”  It attracted the opposite sex like a magnet.

“For that I am beholden to the
Mexxeja
.  He tired of my sad moping and threatened to assign me guard to our dear cousin if I didn’t come.”  He laughed.  “He knew how much I missed you all.”

“I’m sure.” Atif grinned at the exaggeration.  Though there was no doubt that he well missed his clan, Donagh would never shirk his responsibilities, and he most definitely would never mope.  He understood, as did all Gwerriera Nies males, the importance of guarding their females.  “How is our dear cousin Kara, anyway?”  Vaguely he remembered her as puerile, gangly limbs masking the promise of future beauty.  She’d been the only female of nineteen young, the last born of a prolific and well-connected sire.  Donagh had volunteered to assist their
Estiż
in her protection during the time their uncle was station at the palace

“Spoiled.” Donagh grimaced, his dark brows contracting, jaw tightening in displeasure.  “I’ve never encountered a female more entranced with her own desires.”  He ground his teeth.  “It’s ridiculous.”

“She’s young yet, brother, not far beyond her first heat.  She’ll mature.”

“Her age mirrors Uriel, brother.”  Donagh retorted with disgust,  “Not once has our sister demonstrated a tenth of her .” 

“Our sister has had the benefit of our tutelage.  Not all females are so Goddess blessed.”  The arrogance of his statement went unrecognized as his brother nodded in agreement.

“I curry blessings for the unsuspecting male that mates Kara.”  Donagh spat with a shake of his head.

“Every female is precious, brother,” Atif lectured gently, “even those less than altruistic.”

“A fact I am well aware of,” he sighed. “it’s the only reason I remain in our uncle’s charge.”

Determining from his brother’s uncharacteristically displeased aura that a change of topic was in order, Atif stood, his arms stretching high above him to work the kinks from his back.  “Well…enough of that.  What of the political stirrings brother”

“That,” Donagh answered, mirroring his brother, “is a conversation best had beyond the scope of listening ears.”  He yawned, the deep white of his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Walk with me...”

“Where!?”  Avi’Nyla paced the small confines of the
L&F
briefing quarters.  They’d  found her.  Finally!

TK crossed his ankles, his feet propped atop the sill of the massive viewing screen.  Cold darkness drifted beyond, it’s mocking consistency the foil they’d dealt with for the last four weeks.  The distress signal from Leo’Nya Zesiro’s EP had finally been identified, its stationary beacon radiating from the far end of the quadrant’s gridded off map, where TK pointed.  “Lower left quadrant of the grid.”

“Communication established?”  Avi tensed, the muscles of her shoulders bunching as she crossed her arms.  The gesture was defensive, the only sign of her tension and trepidation.  She needed to hear that her sister was okay.  That she was whole, safe and unforgivingly pissed at the length of time it’d taken for them to find her.

“Communication…”  TK paused, his anticipation of the coming eruption evident in his relaxed demeanor.  To an outsider, he was the epitome of relaxed non-worry.  His feet propped, arms crossed almost negligently over the hard packed muscle of his chest, he gave the impression of easy riding.  Avi recognized it for what it was.  It was his way of preparing for an explosion.  One where he needed to be the keeper of the fire retardant, able to remain calm and unaffected while others ran around flapping their arms in flaming panic.  Since only the three of them were present, and ‘Lhila was about as likely to spontaneously combust as she was to fuck ‘Missy’, it meant that his pose was wholly anticipating her reaction to what was about to come out of his mouth.

“TK?” Her step waned.

“Communication…not established.” his eyes met hers with an unwillingness to prevaricate.  “Unresponsive to multiple attempts.”

“The signal is stationary. Avi”

Avi’s glancing focus swept the tight space before coming to rest on her Medic and Weapons Specialist.  It must have been the shock, but for the life of her, that statement made absolutely no sense.  Confusion churned through her, the only translatable statement –
Unresponsive to multiple attempts
--looping her inner ear.

“Captain Zesiro!”  De’Lhila’s tone rose in an effort to gain her attention.  “Did you hear what I said?  It’s listed as un-reconciled but able to support humanoid life.”

She shook her head, blinking the fogged confusion away, “Un-reconciled?  What are you talking about?”

De’Lhila frowned, her concern reflected in TK’s mirroring expression.  Avi’Nyla was the last person anyone would ever expect to lose it--in any circumstance--but it seemed that the prospect of Leo’Nya not coming out of this 100% peachy-keen was a deal breaker for the seasoned, hard-as-nails captain.  “Her signal is stationary, Captain” De’Lhila repeated. “The beacon is radiating from the surface of a newly cataloged planet in the lower grid of the quadrant.”

“The planet is un-reconciled but identified as being able to support humanoid life.”  Avi repeated, the information filtering in like a radio signal that had detoured and just now was reaching its destination.

“Yes,” ‘Lhila sighed, reassured by the obvious reanimation of systems.

“Why does the planet remain un-reconciled?”  Avi turned to TK, his posture less relaxed now that it was obvious there would be no flaming balls of wrath to extinguish.  It was ridiculous the relief she felt at the increase of his physical stress level.  Most would assume it to mean that worse news was on the horizon, but Avi knew it to indicate that everything was about as bad as it would get for the moment.  When that man relaxed, that’s when you knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

“No clue.” He ran his hand through his cinnamon locks.  “No descriptive info listed.  It was catalogued sometime within the last three weeks.”

Within that last three weeks!  Her temper simmered -the explosion recently avoided- slowly rekindling.  If it was catalogued within the last three weeks, it meant that an IAESC vessel had traveled near enough to catalogue the physical and chemical make-up of its orbit and internal atmosphere.  It had traveled close enough to identify Leo’s distress signal.  There was no way it could have been unaware.  The IAESC was nothing if not prudent in its endeavor to pad its bottom line to the tune of anything--tech, craft, or living entity--it could recycle and reuse.  To this end, every vessel, whether commercial, medical or anywhere in between, was equipped with a tracking system.  One that couldn’t be disabled at any time by any one, unless the vessel was docked in an IAESC licensed port.  The system was designed to indicate the presence of any Alliance vessel within the vicinity.  There was only one reason that her sister would have been left to falter unassisted, and that would be under the expressed order that she not be recovered.

“Fuckin’ Son of a Bitch!”  Avi exploded, the sound wave of her wrath awesome in her rage.  “Three weeks!  THREE WEEKS!”  She panted.  “Those mother-fuckers left her there!”  She paced, the understanding that had she not disobeyed orders, her sister would have been truly and forever lost.  The realization that IAESC was capable of and had, in fact, willfully abandoned her sister flooded her.  She didn’t kid herself that Leo’Nya Zesiro was something special to The Alliance.  She was a pilot--an excellent pilot--but nothing irreplaceable.  At least not to the powers that be up in the ‘White House’ of the IAESC’s upper echelons, but to Avi’Nyla she was everything.  She’d spent the last five years risking her life to recover people and things--information, weapons, and secrets--for an organization that now would so willingly discard her.  Her answering rage was consuming, almost to the point of insanity; only one small rational corner of her synapse reminded her of the necessity to remain in control.  The longer she raged, the longer Leo was out there, alone on an alien word.  Vulnerable to everything around her.

“Find Aramis,” she barked, the whole of her attention focused on the cold darkness beyond.  “It’s time he earned his keep.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“The dynamic is what?” 

Captain Zesiro faced her Data Recon and Field Adaptation Officer.  His unceremonious extraction from bed was evident from his clumped--and more than slightly mashed--bed-head to his hastily adorned IAESC uniform.  For the first time, Avi became aware of just how young their new crew member really was.

The perpetual mantel of feigned maturity was absent, the unexpected toss into crisis mode not allowing Aramis the time for mental girding. 

The most important requirement of her crew was that they were prepared for any circumstance, at all times.  She expected them to be on their game, regardless of circumstance or resources, and the jury was still out on Aramis Turner. 

She was completely aware of his ambitions when it came to a permanent assignment to crew the
L&F
, and his opportunity to demonstrate his capability was now. 

She needed information—the information that was essential to their ability to retrieve her sister, safely and expediently. 

“The planet is un-reconciled in regards to its usefulness for species co-mingling.”  Aramis cleared his throat.  “There’s been no determination as to what the indigenous reception would be to an alien presence.” 

He scanned the holo-file in front of him.  “There’s been no determination as to the level of aggression expected from the inhabitants.  Apparently, Ms. Zesiro is the first alien contact that IAESC is aware of.” 

He shifted his focus away from the 3-D image of the red-orange planet.

“So, we are completely in the dark about what it is we’re going to encounter, once we reach the surface.  That’s what you’re saying…right?”  De’Lhila pushed away from the wall she’d been resting against. 

The only one not present was the good Dr. Von.  Being that she was not a part of the crew, her understanding of their mission addendum was unnecessary.

De’ stood, legs braced wide apart, and arms crossed tightly over her chest.  The only indication of her frustration was the tick of her jaw as she ground her teeth.

“Essentially.” 

He glanced back to the captain.  The restrained tension in her frame indicated her need for more information.

“What I
can
say, is that the area where the EP distress signal is located is, for all intents and purposes, barren.  From the surface vids available, it appears that she crashed in the middle of the desert.  Either she’s still in the EP, or she’d be headed …here.” 

He pulled up a 3-D map of the planet’s surface.  The rough depiction read like a line graph, the flat areas--lines; rocky, mountainous areas--rounded, curving swells; and the wooded areas--peaks. 

He pointed to an area roughly 16 kilometers from the EP crash site, the curving swells identifying it as a small mountain cluster.

“She knows how to survive, AB.”  TK relaxed against the open door frame.  “She’ll head towards the closest shelter and stay put.  She knows that you’re coming for her.”

“You have until we reach the outer orbit to engineer an adaption plan, Smith.”  Avi stared past the view screen, her focus the distant planet that sheltered her sister. 

“We need to get on and off the surface with the natives unaware of our presence.”

              “Understood, Captain.” 

Aramis gathered the holo-file and planet schematic and headed for the Bio-Adaptions Lab.  He had less than an hour to figure out how to blend an alien crew into an unknown environment.  Seamlessly.  This was his one and only opportunity.  Go time.  If he fucked this up, he’d never make it back to Earth. 

If nothing else, he was clear that Leo’Nya Zesiro’s recovery was priority one and that her sister would gut and leave him if she had any doubt that he was doing anything less than
everything
to retrieve her.  Crewing on the
L&F
wouldn’t be an option if he were dead.

              “I want enough shell to blow a hole through anything that gets in the way, De’”

              “Not a problem” De’Lhila left, heading towards the munitions deck.  Now that they’d found Leo, there was no way they were leaving without her.  She’d shave off half the planet like a hunk of cheddar if she had too.

              “TK—”

              “Already on it, AB.”  He stood, his intention to begin preparations evident in the aura of can-do vibrating off him.

“I need you here, TK.”

“Fuck that, Captain,”  He crossed his arms and widened his stance for the fight that they both could see coming. 

“We don’t know what’s going on down there.  There’s no way I’m le—”

“You’re right, TK,” she interrupted.  “We
don’t
know what we’re gonna find down there, which is why I need you on ship.  Leo’s been down there for a total of four weeks…FOUR!  There’s no telling what condition she’ll be in.  I need De’ with me for the bomb and band-aid, and Turner’s on deck in case of a quick camo.  I need you for a speedy extract once we recover and return to the EP site.”

              He ran his hand through the cinnamon waves that stood in spikey peaks on his head.  It went against everything in him to stay behind.  SOP was that all three of them crewed the op, but this wasn’t SOP.  This was unsanctioned--in fact--it was a direct violation of SOP to retrieve a principle already relegated as MWHR. 

“Shit. 
FUCK
!  Fine.” He yanked at his hair, fisting both hands in the already abused strands.  “AB, I swear, either one of you come back damaged and I will…just don’t come back damaged.”

              “You got it.” 

Leaning in, she wrapped her arms around him, her head barely reaching his chest.  Though she was captain--and technically didn’t need to explain her decision--her crew was as close to family--aside from Leo--as she’d ever had.  She needed their understanding and support just as much as she needed air, and she would never give a command that she knew they’d be absolutely unable to abide. 

“I promise I’ll pick you a flower if I see any that go with your eyes.”

              “You better,” he answered, in an attempt at levity.  “I like butterflies too.  See if they have any of those.” 

He hugged her, his chin dipping to rest on the top of her head. 

“And don’t let De’ demo the trainee; I’m pretty sure we declined the accident insurance. The deductible’s gonna be a bitch if we return him dead.”

              “I warn you,
Majka.
” Rasipni stared into the deep, hate filled eyes of the female before him. 
Majka
, (mother) a title that hardly seemed fitting for the stark, animated shell of the female who’d birthed him.  After the death of her mate and son, Vinda had transformed.  The long mane of black hair that trailed her back no long shone with luster.  Many moon coverings had passed since she’d taken the care to even bathe it, the usual healthy sheen now lost beneath a layer of ash.  The same ash now covered the deep olive of her skin to lend it the tone of muddy water.  Eyes that once softened in pleasure and contentment held only anger and contempt when she stared into the visage of her one remaining son.

The Reversion Ceremony of his father and brother played in his minds’ eye in a continuous loop whenever he thought of the female who used to be his
Majka
.  He still heard her mournful, inconsolable wails as he’d held her during the final moments that their bodies had been consumed, his restraining arms the only thing keeping her from joining them on their burial pyre.  He’d watched as she bathed in the still warm ashes, her skin welting from the only just extinguished heat.  She’d wallowed, anguish and accusation blatant in her stare.  He felt her condemnation as a living breathing entity, each passing moon cycle growing it into a raging hatred that devoured any remaining kinship between them.  “If you continue on this course, I will not protect you from its consequences.”

“How dare you,” Vinda sneered, the disdainful curl of her lips distorting her features into the visible evidence of the crazed female she’d become.  “Warn me?” She spat.  Her gaze traveled the length of him before turning away in disgust.  Every time she looked at him, she was reminded of the son she’d lost.  “I should have known that
you
would not understand.  You’ve always been weak.”  She paced, her mind absorbed in her pain.  “Muda would have understood, would have avenged you.  Would have avenged your
Patro
.”

"Muda is gone,
Majka.
” He shook her, his hands digging firmly into her thin frame.  Along with her lack of physical care was her unwillingness to eat.  She'd grown noticeably frail, her clothes now hung from her.  "Released to the Goddess, his death a consequence of his arrogance.”  He released her, his hands leaving her as if burned by the hatred that erupted like lava from her.  "Our dead are so due to their own arrogance.  Leo was right; he should have 'kept his damned hands off'!"  Rasipni still shook with the thought of the damage his sire and brother would have inflicted had they had the opportunity.  One thing he could never abide was senseless cruelty, something they had abounded in and enjoyed. 

"You dare speak so--" 

"I DARE!"  He grabbed her, the unexpected momentum of her charge sending them both into the wall behind them. 

Vinda leapt at him, her hatred and pain lending an amazing strength to her fragile, almost skeletal, structure.  She clawed him, her anger fueling her into phase.  Her eyes, usually an abysmal black, yellowed to reptilian slits.  Her lips curled back to bare sharp, even white fangs.  Her skin, a mottled red-orange hue, pulsed with angry color.  "Why couldn't it be YOU!" she railed, unable to control herself.  "Why would the Blessed Goddess take my loyal
Mati
and my strong son and leave me YOU!  You are weak, have always been weak!  WHY!"  She sobbed, her body sagging as her anger spent.

"Mayhap I am being punished for my weakness, as you are being punished for your arrogance." He shook her again, her head bouncing limply back and forth.  "Why would she leave me the responsibility of your bitter angry soul?” He released her, watching as she crumpled into a dirty sobbing ball at his feet.  "I will honor you,
Majka
, protect you as is your right."  He turned away, the devastation in his soul growing with each of her pitiful sobs.

"But mistake me not...I am
Mexxeja
now.  You will obey me in this, or you will be punished."