Page 3 of Devin (Warriors of Etlon #5)

Devin

Noven had explored and created star maps out this direction, naming every single thing he saw after himself.

The planet was mostly dense jungle, and they had chosen a convenient spot for temporary camp along the temperate zone of the equator where they rarely had to deal with cold, and the land protected them from major storms or tsunamis.

It would never do for a large city, however.

The land and water source could not support the buildings he planned.

Perhaps one day it would become a little historical resort village, but at this point, it didn't even deserve that kind of status.

It was more of a rough camping experience that some citified parents would use to show their children how they used to live in the olden days, and how easy their children had it now.

His own mother was a Takalian of some status, and it was the trips to Takalia that had served as a source of early inspiration to Devin.

The cities there were carved out of the white mountains and his mother's family lived at the top of one of the spires.

His father had been Etlonian, and when his father had died fighting the Suhlik, his mother had chosen to remain on Takalia with her family.

Trying to explain that plan to Kavendish, his new warlord, was like talking in circles.

"Warlord, I have explained it twice. I do not want a mate," Devin said.

"Athen did not want a mate. Now Athen has a mate. Now Athen is happy. He even has an offspring. Don't you want a little warrior to train?" This warlord was not like any other commander Devin had known. He'd not once been backhanded for being insubordinate during this conversation.

"I will finish the city first," Devin repeated.

"But you will be much happier with a mate."

"My happiness is irrelevant." The warlord squinted at him and his skin flashed colors of annoyance.

"Whatever," Kavendish muttered, then turned and left.

Devin thought that was the end of the conversation. Apparently it was not.

The next day, Devin, the warlord and a pilot, Zenik, went on a survey mission. Devin had a few potential sites he'd picked out from the satellite maps but he wanted another eye on them. He chose their path based on preference, visiting them in reverse order.

They didn't even land at the first site.

"There's snow on the ground. We are not building a city here," Kavendish said immediately.

"It is near a particularly rich vein of-" Devin began.

The warlord cut him off. "We're not a mining colony. We're producing vegetation."

"I have not been informed of this."

"I do not doubt that you have been kept out of the loop. It is a very small loop. But we are going to need to be close to the jungle. At least the first city. Probably the second as well."

"What specific plant are we producing?"

"That's need to know, and if Etlon thought you needed to know, you would know."

Devin felt the anger rise within him. How could he be expected to do his job if the information he needed was kept from him? He punched in the coordinates for the second site, and said nothing.

He'd never felt the need to be a warlord, to be in charge, but the ineptitude of the colony was wearing on him.

He'd seen them frolicking with their mates, playing games and doing little else besides a few drills.

Their mates were no better. On Takalia, mates were expected to be productive members of society.

They were helpmates, not just birth mothers.

He'd seen them do nothing here but lounge in the sun.

These Terrans were fragile little creatures with little motivation to make themselves useful.

It was disconcerting to say the least. When he took a mate, she would definitely not be a Terran.

"This is better," the warlord said as they flew over the second site.

It was a flat patch of jungle with a large blue river running through it.

The river would never be dry, but would need proper harnessing if they wanted to prevent constant flooding during a rainy season.

Thermal vents near the surface heated the lakes nearby.

They would provide a good source of energy for a large city.

The pilot sat the craft down on a large flat outcrop next to the river. He opened the hatch and then promptly closed it again.

"It smells," he reported, crinkling his nose.

"That's a thermal vent," Devin explained.

"I am not naming a stinky city after my mate. She will never forgive me. This location is also not approved," Devin informed him.

The warlord went back in, sat and crossed arms over his chest waiting to be taken to the next location.

Devin mentally noted another reason not to get a mate.

She would just be another person to consider, to have to answer to and please.

It was best to be free to make your own decisions, rather than worry if she would think the city was too stinky or not.

Looking at his list, he eliminated one of the other two remaining sites for the fact that it too had snow on the ground at times.

Once again, Devin plugged in the next set of coordinates, and tried to tell himself that the eliminated sites were at the bottom of his list anyway.

There was no reason to be angry with the warlord.

Devin may have eliminated the sites himself if he had gotten out and walked around as well.

The final site was perfect. It was up against a mountain range, and although there was snow on the upper mountains, this was one of the spots where the jungle came up right to the edge of the sloping hills.

To the east, there was a river, but it had dug itself into a steep canyon for most of its length.

It would never flood in most places and could be easily controlled in the spots where the canyon was less deep.

The jungle wasn't as thick here, and began to support plant life that was not just fern-based, but other evergreen and conifer species that would make for excellent building materials for buildings further out from the city.

When they found a clearing on the edge of the canyon, Devin opened the hatch himself and stepped out, not giving the warlord the chance to immediately reject it without a second thought.

The air was fresh and clean, not tainted with the briny smell of the ocean that covered the camp.

There was no trace of sulfur even though deep beneath their feet, one could still tap into the ancient and nearly extinct volcanic range.

It would take a bit more drilling but the machines Devin planned to import would simply take another month or two to finish the job.

When one was calculating in decades, a few months were nothing.

The warlord stepped out of the craft. This time the pilot also came with him.

"That is a very steep cliff," Kavendish stated. "Very difficult to access the water."

"The cliffs lower a kilometer or two to the south. The groundwater is also very accessible here," Devin explained

"It is colder here than at the camp."

"It is colder almost everywhere than at the camp”, Devin reminded him. “But this site is fairly temperate. There might be a freeze now and again, but nothing that seems to prevent the jungle from coming right up to the mountains."

A few dozen meters away, the jungle rustled ominously.

"What about godlip?"

Devin had no idea what or who a godlip was. He just stood there and stared at the warlord, waiting for him to explain. Instead the warlord turned, pulling out his knife and headed toward the rattling brush.

"Kave," the pilot called out before drawing his knife and followed after Kavendish.

"Jane will not forgive me if I do not return with you," he said as he entered the thick vegetation.

Devin sighed. He knew his duty. He would follow his warlord toward death itself. He pulled his own knife and began to sprint to catch up with the other two Mahdfel.

They were several meters into the jungle line, and it wasn't too hard to see what had made the commotion.

It currently had a tentacle wrapped around the warlord's neck.

The pilot did not hesitate in his attack.

He simply jumped in and began stabbing the hairy arm that held his commander in such a treacherous position.

Devin, however, took a breath to assess the situation.

The thing had four tentacles, and a large clumsy looking body mass about the size of an auto taxi.

Its mouth didn't look large enough to consume Kavendish without pulling him to pieces first. It didn't seem to have much in the way of fangs. All the teeth faced inward as if to prevent the prey from escaping, rather than to chew its food. The tentacles were thick and sinewy from the way that the warlord’s knife just seemed to bounce off them.

A better place to strike would be the body mass.

Devin reversed the position of his knife and leapt over the swinging tentacles that were all heading toward the other pair.

He grabbed a handful of the shaggy mane and shoved his knife into the creature's mouth.

With a quick stroke, he jammed it into the roof of the mouth just past the rim of the teeth.

His aim had been accurate. The thing shuddered, gurgled and then fell to the ground with a large flop.

The tentacles released and flopped around aimlessly for a moment before finally laying still.

"Ha!" The warlord shouted hoarsely, as if he had killed the creature himself. Devin tried to extricate himself from the creature, but the weight of its frame had fallen and closed its mouth firmly around his arm.

"That is not a godlip, but it is a reasonable prey," the pilot said. "What is it called?"

"I have no idea," Devin grumbled. He tried to pull his arm, but the teeth had clamped down. He'd probably end up tearing his own arm off before it came out.

The warlord stood over him and surveyed the problem.

"The one that slays it claims naming rights."

"Then I name it Kavendish," Devin said.

The warlord threw back his head and laughed. Then he started to cough. Apparently the tentacle had squeezed his throat enough to make him hoarse, but not enough to do enough damage. Pity.

"I take it as an honor," the warlord stated.

He began stabbing a circle around the maw.

He smeared a bit of blood on the analyzer and let it do its job.

"But you should call me Kave. Everyone else does.

Zenik," he said, pointing to the other side of the mouth.

The pilot began to saw at it with his knife and soon, the pair had cut the mouth out of the creature, freeing Devin.

His arm bore the tattoo of a thousand little pointy teeth but with his Mahdfel healing, it would be gone by morning.

Kave checked the analyzer. He nodded approval.

"Edible. Tonight, we feast on Kavendish!

" He seemed to think this was quite amusing.

Zenik went back to the transport to grab a laser to chop the thing into smaller pieces.

Once they had loaded the carcass into the transport, Kave surveyed the site one last time.

"I suppose this will do. When do we start?"