Page 17 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Ten

Meeting the Humans

Lunar Base

They were so close to finding out who sent that foqen pod.

Nenn shuffled his feet, on guard duty with Vaen at the end of the Aroagni’s ramp.

They’d found the source of the species in the pods, going by the term ‘humans.’ Which was why Aehort had opted to dock on a moon orbiting a pretty, blue-white planet.

Drafe and Aehort had left with the human ambassador, being diplomatic.

Nenn winced. He hated being polite when anger fueled his veins. Every pod they’d found had been in pieces or charred bits. The genders varied, and the injuries were odd, like parts of their bodies were missing.

Before him, stretching as far as he could see, were bridges traveling many levels up, higher than Erasril was tall.

Thousands of humans strolled across them, riding those boxes up and down, or they zoomed around in their little yellow shuttles, servicing or refueling the docked ships.

The platforms were in crisp white but grayer to black the farther they descended.

A dome showed part of the moon’s dull, craggy landscape and a wall of stars behind a blue planet.

After the last failure of a climb, he didn’t dare ask for two hours to attempt to summit one of those towering peaks—attempting it being the issue. He gritted his teeth. One day, he’d succeed without interruption or ignorance on his part.

“Some are too pale,” Vaen muttered, scanning the crowds on the various platforms—all buzzing with activity. “Their males look…weak.”

“Not every male is a warrior, Vaen.” Nenn smothered a yawn. “Compare us to their more trained males.”

“I am,” he snapped, gesturing to two uniformed males on guard; their gazes shifted between him and Nenn while clasping toy-like weapons to their torsos.

“What are you planning?” Nenn asked, folding his arms across his chest when he leaned against the frame of the bay door.

“How best to take them down if Drafe and Aehort do not return,” Vaen said, snapping Nenn’s gaze to him.

Nenn wasn’t sure how to respond. Here, he dreamed of exploring the moon around him; whereas, Vaen planned war.

Nenn cleared his throat. “As superior as the canons are on the Aroagni , I am certain they are insufficient for the task at hand.” He swept out his arm to encompass all around them. “Besides, these humans might be the victims. It is their bodies in the pods, after all.”

Vaen glared at him. “Do not fight me with logic, Maed.”

“Ah.” Nenn chuckled. “You seek to vent.” He tapped his chin. “I would introduce a biologic to kill them swiftly.”

Vaen laughed. “That is brilliant.”

Nenn shrugged. “I have vowed to heal first, not massacre. Just remember, if I am to do this, it must be for a noble cause.”

“Same,” Vaen said, staring ahead.

Nenn released a slow exhale, grateful Vaen agreed with him.

A female sprinted past them, her pale-yellow hair streaming behind her. She leaped into a male’s arms then latched her face to his. Nenn’s stomach knotted. He didn’t know whether it was from disgust or intrigue.

“Is that how they greet each other?” Vaen whispered.

“I do not know.”

Vaen shuddered. “Let us pray to Osnir that we need not do that.”

The two humans walked off hand-in-hand. They gazed into each other’s eyes with…affection. Nenn’s heart twanged in longing. The face latching, no. Finding his love mate, yes.

Splitting the crowds with his head high above the average human was Aehort Uz. Beside him marched a scowling Ulvus.

“Where the foq is Drafe?” Vaen asked, glancing at Nenn.

“No idea,” Nenn said with a shrug.

“Do you know anything?” Vaen snapped.

Nenn laughed. “That I am not an ass like you.”

Vaen huffed and called out to Aehort, “Where—?”

“With a human female,” Ulvus barked, revulsion curling his lip.

Vaen jerked back, his brow furrowed. “Drafe would neve—”

“Aehort Uz encouraged it,” Ulvus grated out.

“I did and with reason, Ulvus Sava. Victoria Harper-Barnes will come to play a pivotal role in finding the killers.” Aehort peered down his nose at Ulvus then glided into the bay. “Drafe Arrak will not be long. Nenn and Vaen, remain at your posts until he returns.”

“As you command, Aehort Uz,” Vaen said.

Ulvus stamped his foot and stormed inside.

“What happened to cause such bitterness in that male?” Nenn nudged Vaen. “You are closest to Drafe.”

“Ulvus won the rite of Uhann by brute strength, and yet, he dishonored his tribe by stealing from Drafe then lying about it. For that, his tribe took his hand as per their laws. Drafe showed such calm and control during his defeat that the Ivoyans accepted them both.”

“Ah, so the animosity runs deep.”

“As it should when one hates oneself.” Vaen tapped his chest. “To side with Drafe would paint Ulvus’s actions in a negative light. Had the male confronted his behavior, he would not have stayed a sava. His inability to deal with his weakness adds to his self-hatred.”

“And the cycle continues.”

“Indeed.” Vaen clasped his hands behind his back and stretched. “I first met him when he was a karu. He wore a new hand, a gift from the Ivoyans.”

“Yes, they have that skill.” Nenn had recognized the medical miracle of Ulvus’s orange hand although he’d yet to see the procedure performed.

“Is it a perfect mirror of his other hand?” Vaen raised his hand, curled his fingers into a fist, then unfurled them.

“It is. How can you match a missing limb?”

“And yet, he is not grateful.” Vaen shook his head. “I have often pondered how Ulvus’s mind and sense of honor works.”

“Or he has neither?” Nenn winced, not liking to talk ill of anyone even if the male was Ulvus. “My thanks for sharing, Vaen. I now understand better.”

Companionable silence descended. More face latches occurred, some between male and male, or female with female.

“Is that hygienic?” Vaen asked, gesturing with a flick of his wrist.

“I doubt it is.” Nenn tried not to stare. Each time it happened, that knot in his stomach tightened.

“I want off this moon station and onto the next phase,” Vaen huffed.

“You wish to return to Ivoy soonest?”

“I do. We might earn honor for our tribe on this mission, but it is not guaranteed. Whereas, serving Ivoyans while they rebuild their leadership is.”

Nenn succumbed and yawned. “If this is successful, you may be able to choose which ot to serve.”

Vaen smiled. “Truth.”

A furious Drafe stomped toward them, parting the human crowds. Never had Nenn seen the male lose his calm.

“What has you so miserable?” Vaen demanded, hurrying forward to meet him.

“I…lost something,” Drafe mumbled.

“Oh?” Vaen studied him. “You have your blaster and a strange black strip around your wrist.”

Lifting his hand, Drafe twisted his wrist, his eyes widening, and at last, a small smile formed.

“Ulvus is most displeased with your departure.” Vaen trailed him, waited for Nenn to pass him, then smacked the button to shut the bay doors. He bolted ahead to fall into step beside Drafe. “Aehort awaits you in the command room.”

“I know where it is. You need not escort me.” Drafe glared at Vaen.

Nenn froze. Drafe’s reaction was uncharacteristic of him. Nenn sniffed, picking up a mating and a sunbaked female. She must have been incredible or the worst though by the way Drafe reacted, like a child forbidden to pock-jump, Nenn would hazard the former applied here.

He gazed at the display vid showing the humans streaming past the Aroagni’s ramp. Had Drafe gotten to face-latch? Nenn hummed. When the male had calmed, he’d ask.

Nenn sucked on his fingertips then smacked his lips.

Drafe’s salty tulsig cakes were heavenly, nothing like what he’d eaten at home.

The replicate could make anything Qaldreth warriors could ask for, and yet, for the most part, they stayed true to their traditions.

Nenn had tried garak, kurrula, and awayar but not os-ayy.

Garak was a wilder meat compared to banaari.

Kurrula were small birds with bones to crunch through, and awayar had a slimy texture.

Os-ayy were hard-shelled insects with too many feelers and legs and a juicy interior.

He shuddered at the thought of slurping from the carapaces even if they were a pretty iridescent blue.

He’d rather eat onis, the potent black moss clinging to the overhangs of volcanic rock.

To the right of his plate sat a stack of teyor cards.

This was what his life had become, filling his time with games, climbing, and the occasional maed work.

What he should start was some sort of contest, pitting Qaldreth against Qaldreth.

As entertaining as that thought was, suggesting such an event would be selfish of him.

The number of injuries would increase…all to alleviate his boredom.

He snorted and sipped from a jar of hot water.

“What has you huffing to yourself?” Juunn asked, sliding onto the bench in front of Nenn.

“I need something to do. Got anything for me?” A weight lifted off his chest at revealing what he’d been struggling with since they’d left Ivoy.

Juunn chuckled. “Was just going to ask you if you wanted to spar?”

Nenn leaped to his feet. “Yes, please.”

Juunn rose, too, but he threw out his hands, palms outward. “Nothing too violent. We cannot afford to wound our only maed.”

“I do not find your warning funny,” Nenn said and grinned. “Where is Ulvus?”

“Sulking,” Juunn said, leading the way to the activities room. “Thank Osnir. His continuous ‘helpful’ comments are unbearable to endure.”

“The Ivoyans must have seen worth in the male to agree to train him.” Nenn ignored Juunn’s wide-eyed gaze.

“True, and to invest their med tech on his hand. Had I been in his shoes, I would be grateful for the opportunities offered to me.”

“All the udaps know who he is, though,” Nenn said. “Would they be able to name you or me?”

Juunn laughed. “Being a pain in someone’s backside is not the way to bring honor to your tribe.”

Nenn shrugged. “We cannot say he is not trying, no matter how controversial.”