Claimed: The Warriors of Nur (4 page)

“You must slow.  You will become ill otherwise.”

Her arm dropped listlessly to her side.  She didn’t have the energy to fight him.  She felt half-dead already, her body heavy, coaxing her black into peaceful oblivion.  Live or die…it was up to him. 

The damp cloth gently grazed the overheated skin that lay bare to him.  He hadn’t meant to keep her exposed for so long. 

After feeling her slide from his back, he’d realized just how damaging his sun was to her.  She’d succumbed to its draining rays long before he’d anticipated, and looking at her, he felt concern about her ability to continue in the heat.  There were still many hours before the next moon covering, but he couldn’t wait.  There were few shelters like this one, and they were used frequently to rest from the sun. 

Living in a climate mostly void of water, the Gwerriera Nies had learned to adapt by digging these
kollah
as shelter when they traveled during the hottest hours of the day. These were deep tunneling holes dug about six feet into the ground, large enough to shelter five or six males.  He couldn’t rest her here long.  Other males would come to use the
kollah
, and he’d have to fight them to keep her.  He wouldn’t risk her being stolen, or his becoming injured and being unable to protect her.  He’d scented the area before entering, and while there were only lingering traces of others, it wasn’t uncommon for males from different clans to seek shelter here.  Alone, he’d phase to protect himself if threatened, but he wouldn’t risk his female.

Leo felt her body rock gently.  For the last few…hours…days…she’d floated in and out of consciousness, never really breeching its surface.  She nuzzled deeper into the warmth beneath her cheek.  A steady drumming continued to lull her into a state of peacefulness.  Her throat no longer swollen, she swallowed, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips.  The scent of musk and outdoors tickled her nose with every inhale.  Gradually, she became aware of the strong arms braced against her back and under her legs.  She was being held…or rather carried… it seemed. 

Relief washed through Erol when her small body stiffened in his arms.  It had been hours since she’d last stirred.

“You must tell me when you tire.  You’re not as strong as our females, and I haven’t yet learned your limitations,” he growled, hoping to convey in tone what was lost in translation. 

The last few hours had been agony for him. 

He couldn’t stop looking at her; he couldn’t help note the angry flush just beneath the creamy brown of her skin.  She was already fragile, only half the size of that of a Gwerriera Nies female, but with the added sun sickness, she seemed even more so.  Her whimpers and her delirium-induced mutterings slowly ate at him; he hadn’t intended to cause harm.  Just the opposite.  As her male, his purpose was to protect her, to care for her above all else.  He was already off to a bad start.  He shook his in disgust. Now, after all the cycles of silent entreaty, he’d been blessed with a female.  This female.  A mate perfect in form and dimension.  It did not matter her origin, nor did it her purpose.  She was his.  For the second time, he’d caused damage, both almost unto death.  He had to do better.  Would do better.

Her body relaxed at hearing the now-familiar rumble of his voice.  Her head was draped with thick dark folds of material trapping the light outside, so she had no way of identifying him beyond the rich timber that echoed in the chest beneath her ear.  It was odd, the immediate sense of relief she felt at hearing his strange growling way of speaking.  After all, it was his fault she was so miserable to begin with. 

Good Lord, please don’t let this be early Stockholm syndrome.
  But, in her defense, he
was
the devil she knew, and she’d rather be with that devil than with one she didn’t.  And, aside from trying to kill her…well yeah, that was bad. 
Bad cave man!  Bad!
  She silently scolded. 

Still, it wasn’t funny. Sighing, she lamented the loss of her wrist unit.  Among other things,
it was a translation device.  Courtesy of the ‘Interplanetary Alliance for Exploration & Species Cultivation,’ or the IAESC for short, every Outer Drifter was outfitted with state of the art language translation uploads.  The only difficulty was that you needed access to both units in order to initiate the program.  One unit was a permanent neuro implant.  It was imbedded into the area of her brain that controlled language acquisition and long-term memory.  Once you programmed in the phonetics of a language was programed, it would automatically decipher and translate the remainder.  Came in handy with her job.  Problem was she needed the wrist link to record and translate the initial phonetic sequences. 

The deep rumble of his voice did something to her on an elemental level.  Just hearing it made her stomach knot, but no matter how lovely it was to just listen, she need to actually
understand
what he was saying.  She needed him to understand
her
.

“You wouldn’t happen to have my watch…?” she questioned, pushing down the cloth that covered her face.

He frowned, the only indication that he’d heard her. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know what a watch
is
….”  She sighed.  “Um…Super-cali-fragalistic-xpeali-docious?”

Leo tugged on the loc that fell over his shoulder to rest on his chest, now that she had momentarily snagged his attention.

“We have GOT to work on this communication thing.  Haven’t you heard that it’s the key to any good relationship?”  She sighed at the confusion that furrowed his brow.  It was obvious they were on equal ground when it came to the language barrier. 

Erol listened to his female ramble.  He could tell by her tone that she was asking him something, her voice emanating from a throat deep and gravelly from disuse of her abused throat.  Again he thought of how she’d felt beneath his palms, how delicate her bones, how soft her skin. 

A gentle tug brought his gazed down to the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.  His original assessment paled in comparison to their true magnificence.  Gold flecks floated in a sea of truest sage green.  They were eyes a male would willingly drown in if given the change.  They held the sweetness of innocence and the promise of seduction--an unknown promise that begged to be explored.

“Rest, female.”  Covering her face, he pressed her head to his chest. 

Soon they’d reach the cooler areas at the edge of the wastelands.  There he’d find shelter so that she might rest before they continued on.  He also had to hunt.  He had no meat left, and while
he
would have continued without sustenance, the need to provide for her was one that he couldn’t ignore.  His inattention had already caused her illness, and he wouldn’t damage her more with neglect.  He’d used her liquid to bath her lips and tongue, but now that too was gone.  He’d have to find vesi fruit. 

The fruit of the vesi was almost tasteless, but lush with liquid.  It grew below ground and wasn’t subject to the harsh drying effects of the sun. 

He looked down at the shrouded figure in his arms.  He’d blanketed her in the oddly shifting cloth that had hidden her from his sight at first.  He felt unease as he watched its patterns shift until it exactly matched the smooth brown complexion of his skin, almost as if it were a living entity. 

Shaking it off his disease, he focused on the feel of the female in his arms.  Her skin, which had been red and overheated, was now cool to the touch.  It was as if the cloth absorbed the heat from her skin leaving her temperature much cooler.  She’d had a strange array of belongings with her, both on her and within the
borża
,
she’d carried.  He’d sampled the liquid before using it and determined it to be much like the liquid found within the roots of the vesi fruit.  The other items were unfamiliar to him, so he’d packed them away.  He’d re-examine them for use later.  For now, he was content just to hold her.  He could tell, by the way she melted into him, she’d given into her body’s need to sleep and heal. 

He remained curious as to her purpose here on Nur.  Most
Aljeni
were sent as a demonstration of strength; for though much of the surface was arid, beneath the many layers of rock lay a mineral resource not found on many other planets.  The cave he’d tracked her to was veined with trace deposits of it, the red-orange glow distinguishable even through the pitch of dark.  For millennia, Nur had been plagued with ‘emissaries’ looking to rape it for profit, and for many millennia, the Gwerriera Nies had refused.  Often that refusal led to battle, and over time, the
Aljeni
sent began to look less like ‘emissaries’ and more like warriors, as the strongest arrived instead.  So why send this female?  Why was she here? 

He shook his head.  It didn’t matter why she was here.  They were foolish to send a female, unprotected, to a planet so desperately destitute.  Her purpose here was irrelevant.  He’d make her understand how much she was needed.  How much
he
needed her.

CHAPTER THREE

“What do you mean she’s GONE?”

Avi’Nyla advanced across the matted floors of the Retrieval and Recovery training gym in the IAESC’s Special Forces Unit to stand eye to eye with the uniformed officer.  He cleared maybe 5’8”, which to her 5’6” was still tall, but that’s where any physical advantages ended.  The Family Relations Coordinator, or FRC for short, sent by the IAESC was a short, fat, and at the moment, nervously sweating man.  Maybe it was her extremely hostile reputation, or maybe he was naturally nervous.  Avi didn’t really care.  At the moment, the only relevant information was that her best friend, confidant, and sister was--apparently--“gone.”

“What do you mean…GONE?”

“H…her distress tracker activated.  Wh…when we responded, we were unable to determine directional propulsion of the launched pod.  We’re still searching¸ but without any idea of…”  FRC Nelson Briggs didn’t need to finish his explanation.  It was obvious that Avi’Nyla Zesiro was well aware of exactly what he was trying to explain.  This was his third week in the unit, and it’d surprised him to already have a field assignment.  He’d been called in by his supervisor , and assigned the duty of informing Avi’Nyla Zesiro that her sister, Leo’Nya Zesiro, was currently considered MWHR ‘Missing Without Hope of Retrieval’. 

He’d left the public relations wing of the IAESC headquarters to the silent, shaking heads of this fellow FRC’s.  His assumption was that they all sympathized with his having to deliver such heart wrenching news.  Especially to a fellow IAESC employee.  To deliver the news of a lost loved one was hard on the best of days, but Leo’Nya Zesiro was a young woman.  For some reason, the loss of a young life was always more troubling than that of one who had lived to the fullest.  Not only that, her file listed only one next of kin, a Ms. Avi'Nyla Zesiro: her twin sister and only living relation. 

Truth was, they all knew what the new guy didn’t.  Avi’Nyla, or ‘Alpha Bitch’ to her crew, would blow apart as soon as she heard the news that her sister was…was never coming home.  She’d explode alright, and everything in her general vicinity would burn up in her fiery wrath, including the poor SOB dumb enough to play messenger boy. 

He’d braced himself in anticipation of hysterics once he delivered his sorrowful burden; he’d even brought the card for the IAESC shrink.  Often times, distraught family members took the option of professional therapy to help process through their grief.  What he hadn’t prepared himself for was the angry, snarling woman that glared at him accusingly.

“Explain how this happened.” It was  not a request.

Avi could feel panic begin to flare in her chest…
MWHR…MWHR
everyone at the IAESC knew what that meant. 

To be placed on that list was to be written off…to be filed away in a closet…in a box… in a corner of the basement in the IAESC Archives.  MISSING WITHOUT HOPE OF RETRIEVAL meant one of two things: either there was no viable way to recover the individual, or in many cases what was left of the individual, or The Alliance felt that it would take more time and labor for retrieval than it was worth.  Either way, it was a death sentence, both figuratively and literally. 

Oh sure, the suits made a public show of investing unlimited resources in locating those listed MWHR, and the cases were never officially closed, but those more intimately acquainted understood that ‘officially’ or not, those labeled MWHR were never making it back.  After her five years as Lead Recovery and Retrieval Officer, Avi knew this as a fact.  That’s why she never listed anyone MWHR unless she was absolutely sure that the person was either dead or beyond all of the resources at her disposal. 

She didn’t care how much time or money it drained from The Alliance.  Avi refused to give up until she had absolutely no choice, a fact that won her several enemies in the upper echelons of The Alliance.  The fact was, like all corporations, the IAESC was in the business of making money.  Sure, exploration and cultivation was part of it, but more than that, cataloging new planets rich in new, raw, and usable materials was what the IAESC was really about.  In truth, it was more economical to replace the missing than to find them, and Avi often cost them more money than they would like with her refusals to fall in line, which is why she was
just now
being informed that her sister had been listed MWHR .  Everyone knew that if she’d learned sooner, there was no way Leo’Nya Zesiro would have ever made it on that list.  She would have remained on the Viable Retrieval list.  Indefinitely.

Avi took two deep calming breaths. 

‘
Keep it together Avi.  Beating him into a mushy, pulpy pile won’t change anything…he’ll just be beat… and… mushy…and…pulpy.
’ 

She could imagine the calm soothing voice of her sister.  Even in this dismal situation, Leo would’ve counseled her to remain optimistic.  She’d always been the calm one, the one able to see the glass as half full, the one able to remain hopeful in the most hopeless instances…all things Avi was not. 

To look at them, Avi and Leo Zesiro were identical.  They shared the same small frame, the same lush curves, the same creamy caramelo con leche complexion with almond-shaped slanted hazel eyes, and the same thickly curling chocolaty-black hair.  If Avi were to grow her hair to match Leo’s waist- length locks, they would be as mirror images, but physical appearance was where their similarities began and ended. 

The reality that two people of such contradictory personalities were hatched from the same zygote would have been hard to believe if they hadn’t been so indistinguishable in appearance. 

Where Leo was open and trusting, Avi was not.  Where Leo was optimistic and forgiving, Avi was not.  Where Leo was everything that was light, caring, and nonjudgmental, Avi was just…not.  Personality wise, there was only one identifiable similarity between the two, and that was their unbreakable love, trust, and understanding of one another.  There was no Avi without Leo…no Leo without Avi.  They were truly each half of one whole.

“Give me the holo-file.”

Briggs took a relieved step back.  Though obvious and intense anger still blazed in her eyes, he no longer felt the need to retreat. 

“Umm…” he started, clearing his throat, “Umm…as to her holo-file; that’s classified and unavailable for…”

“Mother-Fucker!”  She interrupted.  She didn’t have the patience to listen to him parrot policy to her.  “You’re new, right?” her voice lowered to just barely above a whisper.  “Obviously, because only a
new
idiot would be dumb enough to let those
old
idiots, over in FRC send him here to tell me this shit.  Do you realize that we’re standing in R&R?  I know what the fuck MWHR means, don’t parrot that ‘classified’ shit to me!” She glanced at the name emblazoned on the starched uniform shirt.  “Now, Briggs, is it?  The
only
thing keeping me from detonating is the remembered influence of the woman that you just informed me is for all intents and purposes…dead.” 

The pain of that acknowledgment lanced through her.  “Give me the fuckin’ file before I beat you to death…and take it.”

Briggs looked down into eyes that he could only describe as brutal and controlled.  The absolute calmness in them gave evidence to the true amount of danger he was in.  If he’d thought her anger was explosive, this utter lack of emotion was chilling. 

He felt shivers race his spine, knowing that her words were not a threat, but a simple statement of fact.  His abominably slow survival instinct screamed for him to lower his eyes in submission to the menace reflected in those calm, controlled, green depths.  Silently, he held out his palm with the small holo-file chip.  Avi’Nyla Zesiro was not one to make an enemy of.

The painful cramping of her stomach shook Leo out of the warm cocooning fog of sleep.  The blazing heat of the sun was gone, and in its place, a cooling breeze caressed the bare skin of her exposed arms and shoulders. 

Above her stood a thick, lush canopy of towering vegetation, so dense it almost blocked out the blinding, neon rays of the sun.  The last remnants of fog drifted from her mind, bringing with it the clarity of complete wakefulness. 

Curling onto her side, she pulled her knees tightly to her chest to dampen the intensely painful cramping. 

“My God…” it came out on a moan. “  What is that smell?” 

Her stomach cramped again, when the mouthwatering scent of roasting meat drifted towards her on the breeze. 

Oh, God…that smells so good!
 

Her eyes traveled the open space where she lay.  Around her stood a large network of vegetation.  Instead of the deeper green color of most Earth vegetation, these were lighter in color, more the yellowish-green of immature celery than the deeper emerald she was used to. 

The ground beneath her felt slightly dry--not as arid as the dessert they’d traveled--like a layer of dry soil covered a slightly moister layer beneath.  Slowly she pushed herself up into a sitting position. 

Where was Tarzan?  That’s how she referred to him… in her head anyway.  He reminded her of a character in an old vid-clip that she’d seen in her History of Modern Cinema class.  It was his whole ‘strong, silent, drag the chick away’ thing that brought it to mind, not to mention that way sexy fur loincloth thing he had going on.  Before drifting off that last time, she’d decided that Tarzan would be appropriate, ; especially since it wasn’t like she could just ask what his name was. 

Since it seemed he’d decided to abandon her, it was probably a moot point anyway.  She was annoyed that he’d abandoned her while she was down.  He could’ve at least waited until she was up and able to defend herself before deciding to shove off.  What if she’d been bitten by a snake or attacked by a bear or a…whatever?  Who knew what freaky weird alien animals lived here. 

Truth was she didn’t know enough about this planet to anticipate what its animal life consisted of.  Since, for the most part, there was very little vegetation and plant life, she couldn’t imagine that there were many herbivores wandering around.  So he’d, in essence, left her like a piece of steak for whichever hungry thing ambled by first. 

The gnawing queasiness intensified, ; reminding her it’d been a while since she’d eaten.  Nausea kept her immobile while she waited for it to pass. 

Gotta find something to eat.

She regretted not using one of the protein packs she’d brought before she’d met her captor.  At the time, she’d figured on having to ration them until she was able to determine what was and wasn’t edible.  Since Tarzan stole everything, she’d have to figure that out sooner than anticipated. 

She scanned her surroundings again.  From the amount of sunlight here, it was obvious that he hadn’t taken her that deeply into the brush.  The darker shadows that blanketed the vegetation a little farther in hadn’t quite reached her.  Turning towards the sunnier area, she listen cautiously as she made her way towards , what she hoped was , the edge of the… where ever she was.  She walked maybe six feet before she parted the lower growing bushes, which were still taller than she was, and stepped out into a larger meadow-like space.  The dense canopy was absent here.  The ground, which had been softly moist, was now hard and dry with a layer of small pebbles.  The aroma of roasted meat was much stronger, and her mouth watered.
 

Good Lord…that smell…

In the center stood a fire pit.  Leo glanced anxiously around; she didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean there was no one here.  Glancing again at the pit, she noticed the large hip satchel sitting beside it.