‘General Osmundson, retired Colonel Marshall Winters, co-founder of Omega Division has arrived. Shall I show him in?’
The blond, barrel chested man stood from his desk and replied to his VI.
“Yes, of course Alfred. And you don’t need to remind me who my foxhole buddy is,” Osmundson grumbled, looking up away from his personal display to survey his desk and office. It was a conservatively furnished space atop a modest three-story building that overlooked the launch sites of Cape Canaveral, which the United States had ‘graciously’ supplied to the budding HEL as a symbol of good faith and prestige. Sure the Europeans and Chinese had screeched about it, but neither was forthcoming with launch capabilities of the size and scope necessary to build the lunar military and research facilities that currently housed the about half of on duty Beta Division personnel as well as various contingents of Delta and Omega soldiers and scouts training for low gravity deployments. Those countries’ HEL personnel had been allowed to plant flags on the lunar surface though, so that had appeased everyone involved. Osmundson chuckled to himself as he recalled the first launch, one that he’d watched from the same office along with Marshall Winters and the man’s two younger children, Alice and Russell. “Oh how very far we’ve come. I’m sorry, Marshall.”
The general’s musings were interrupted by a crisp rapping of knuckles against the oak wood door. The entry hissed quietly and swung open unaided, belying the antique design. ‘Colonel Winters, welcome to the office of General William Osmundson,’ came the prim and professional voice of the general’s VI, styled after a British butler of days past.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” the man said shortly, looking around the office and noticing almost nothing had changed since his last visit, from the broad oak desk to the wooden ceiling fan. General Osmundson, like many humans, still enjoyed the aesthetics of pre-uplift society, even if his desk contained the quantum processor for a VI and his personal computer, from which he governed almost every high level aspect of Omega Division. Winters stood at attention. “General.”
“Cut the shit and get over here, Winters. You and I have killed too many people for that sort of nonsense,” Osmundson ordered, extending a hand and meeting the blue eyes of his comrade as they firmly shook. “Damn Marshall, I swear you don’t look a day older than when you left the force.”
“And you know as well as I do that a marine never truly hangs it up. Omega will always have my service but it’s no match for Sandra.”
“Heh, quite so. How is the missus anyway?”
“She’s not well, William. That’s why I’m here.”
“No, I never did take you for the type to show up in person for a social call. Sit, please.” Osmundson motioned to the two leather chairs that faced his desk, waiting for Winters to be seated before he did so as well. “Can I offer you a cigar?”
“Not if it’s Cuban, can’t stand those.”
“Aw, c’mon Marshall. They aren’t that bad.”
“Doesn’t matter if the embargo was lifted following first contact, they still ride along on their history and reputation. I’ll take Nicaraguan leaf any day. There’s passion in those,” Marshall declared, withdrawing a long, silver container from his jacket pocket. Osmundson let out a bark of laughter.
“Sandra know about that little piece you’ve got there?” He asked, reaching into a drawer and collecting his own stash of Monte Cristos and a lighter. Winters passed his cigar case across the leather surface of the desk so Osmundson could see it more clearly. MW was monogrammed across the worn silver surface.
“Sandra had it made for me, said I earned it. Bit of a retirement gift for managing to get that rebellious final child of ours on the straight and narrow.” Both men furrowed their brows as Winters made mention of the obvious shadow hanging over them. As cigars glowed orange and smoke wafted upward to be dispersed by the rotating blades of the ceiling fan, they finally got down to brass tacks.
“I know why you’re here, Marshall.”
“Then what are you planning to do about it?” The colonel demanded.
“This is the first time a ship has missed the hard line. There are considerations that need to be taken into account and-”
“Damn the talking heads and damn the UN and damn the Ghaelen and anyone else concerned with the ‘sensibilities’,” Winters thundered.
“In defense of the space elk, they don’t know about this yet.”
“We’re talking about my son’s ship, William! Omega has about two hundred personnel assigned to active scout teams, four Dakota class ships. A quarter of those lives are now in limbo.”
“And if something did happen they’ve been dead for months! I know how serious this is, Marshall!” Osmundson’s voice had risen to match his friend’s, the two men having long since abandoned their seats. “I know how important your family is to you. I know you were there for probably half of that crew’s graduation ceremony. Hell, if I recall correctly you pinned that girl’s captain insignia yourself. But you chose to retire and that means you can’t come storming in here and demand I send ships that I just don’t have after your boy. Marshall…”
Winters had slumped back into his chair, his cigar hanging from his lips. “I’m sorry, William. I know I’m out of line.”
“Stow it, soldier. I know damn well you’re here as a father, not a colonel. Just know that if I had a spare Dakota class on my hands it would have been dispatched yesterday. As things stand all of our active scout ships are on missions. The next Dakota class in production won’t be ready for sortie for another six to twelve months. Delta’s few dreadnaughts groups are all monitoring conditions on the pacified worlds or guarding Sol. You know as well as I do that no one in the entirety of the HEL would leave less than two capital ships and their accompaniment in this system. The next Dakota class hard line is four months from now, the Chevalier. Our only options are to wait or petition the Ghaelen to send one of their ships.”
“And that would go down even worse than sending one of those floating fortresses away,” Winters agreed, leaning back in resignation and closing his eyes. “That’s my son out there, Will, my youngest. Do you have any idea what it would do to Sandra if he never came back? He’s going to be twenty five in May. Hell, there were times we weren’t even sure he’d make it to enlistment age the way things were going but…you have no idea how proud she is of him.”
For a long moment William Osmundson considered that he might be the fortunate one, having chosen Omega for his wife instead of a woman. Alfred’s voice broke the silence. ‘Sir, you have an unannounced pair of guests.’
“Tell them I’m busy, Alfred,” Osmundson snapped before taking a long drag of his cigar.
“Sir, the party has ignored my insistence that they return at another time. They are on their way to your office now.”
“God damn it, I don’t have time for this shit,” the general fumed as his door opened and Winters stood to regard their unwanted visitors. “What the hell is the leader of the nerds doing here?”
“Now now, is that really how you want to start off this conversation, with petty insults?” The man asked, towering over them both at 6’3”.
“Anyone ever tell you that you don’t look like a Kaczynski?” Winters drawled with another practiced puff of his cigar.
“You think you’re the first shock jockey to give me that one? There’s literal living, breathing space elk out there with warp drives, but a Polack and a Kenyan falling in love has you bent out of shape, Winters?”
“Wait, daddy?” A reserved voice called out, stepping past the cover of the door and her imposing commanding officer. Winters almost let his cigar drop from his mouth.
“Alice? What are you doing here?”
“Excuse me, Alfred was it? Could you do something about the smoke in here? It smells like an old men’s club,” Kaczynski complained.
‘Of course, Admiral Kaczynski, establishing negative pressure,’ Alfred replied.
“Would you shut the fuck up about the smoke and tell me what’s going on, Natori? Why is my daughter here?” Winters demanded with unconcealed suspicion.
“Yes, I can see the two of you are in no mood for polite conversation. I hear you have a missing ship on your hands.”
“Osmundson?” Winters snarled.
“I’ll be ordering a complete scrub of Omega’s entire data infrastructure the moment this conversation is concluded,” the general promised, glaring venom at Kaczynski. “I guess we’ll add interdepartmental espionage to Beta’s long list of ignominious achievements.”
“Admiral, what’s going on?” Alice Winters pleaded, her hazel eyes sparkling with fear.
“I believe it best that your father tell you this, Alice. If he’s here I’m sure your mother knows as well.”
“Someday that clever brain of yours is going to get you killed, Natori. Alice,” Marshall looked at his daughter with a haggard expression. “For what it’s worth these days this information is classified. But I’m sure as hell not going to enforce that. Your brother…his ship’s hard line was two days ago.”
“Oh god…” Alice clapped her hands over her mouth as Natori steered her gently to the final chair in the room. Her lips quivered as she let out a pained sigh. “Oh god, Rusty. Dad?”
“Nothing’s entered or emerged from the Sol warp point in over a week. I’m sorry, Alice. I was going to tell you and the others when I returned home from here, though it seems Beta plans to use my family against me in some way,” Winters finished by directing another furious glare at the dark-skinned admiral. Kaczynski chuckled.
“I have no intention of doing anything of the sort, Colonel. We believe knowledge is power in Beta Division, and I am here to extend an offer of aid on its behalf.”
“Unless you have a warship in your pocket, Admiral, I don’t think you’ll be of much use to us,” Osmundson declared. Natori only smiled.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” The man reached into his back pocket, withdrew an encrypted data disc, and inserted it into his A-MACS, an arm mounted analysis and communications suite. It was a version of the B-MASS that had been slimmed down and designed for non-frontline military and civilian use, another of Beta’s many advances in popularizing and commoditizing the various computational advances made possible by Ghaelen technological exchange, facilitated by Alpha Division diplomats. The device took a scan of Kaczynski’s retinas and unlocked the files, displaying a behemoth of a warship that slowly rotated in holographic form before them. “May I present to you all the HEL Military Vessel HMV Dreadnaughty McDreadnaughtface!” Absolute silence reigned as a clump of ash fell from Osmundson’s cigar onto his desk. Natori looked around as Alice stifled a giggle in spite of herself, momentary shock at the admiral’s joke overwhelming her concern for her brother.
“What? Is that not funny anymore? I just learned about Boaty McBoatface the other day. I guess that bit of internet history passed me by. Anyway, may I actually present the HMV Event Horizon, hull number forty two.”
“Fucking nerds,” Winters grumbled.
“Dad!”
“Sweetie, I’m extraordinarily proud of your xenobiology masters and your assignment to Beta’s PhD program, but that doesn’t change the fact that Russell’s ship is MIA and Beta’s Admiral is here showing off his new toy.”
“And what if I told you that I intend to save your son’s life with his ‘toy’? If he still lives, of course.”
“Then you have my undivided attention, Admiral.”
“Excellent! With your permission, General Osmundson?”
“Just get on with it,” the Omega head commanded as he searched for an ashtray.
“Indeed. The Event Horizon is a novel concept ship, part dreadnaught and part research vessel, featuring new technologies both co-developed and of purely human design. It features gradient artificial gravity thanks to its elongated fusion core and warp drives, allowing for laboratories with an extraordinarily wide range of possible conditions, fully sustainable manufactory bays with the ability to harvest raw materials from low gravity moons or asteroids, as well as a fleet of shuttles capable of planetary landings. The crew is over two thousand strong including sailors, a platoon of marines, a squad of Jumpers, pilots, researchers, and their families. It is intended to, among other things, explore various conditions that might present themselves if humanity is ever to develop colony ships or fully independent space stations.” Admiral Kaczynski paused for a moment, clearly very proud of his baby. Winters was looking intently at the specs.
“William, don’t authorize this,” he eventually declared.
“What?! Dad!”
“Alice, I will not send two thousand souls to die just for a chance at getting Russell back. Natori, this is a fool’s errand.”
“I’m afraid I do not agree, Colonel.”
“You’re talking about sending the equivalent of a carrier vessel unescorted into unknown territory, you cocksure fool! Slapping a fixed gun to a long ship doesn’t make it a capital vessel! Sure, you have an unproven shield generator, a hangar full of first generation zero-g fighters, and a handful of Gatling rail cannons. What the hell is that going to do for you against an alien minefield? What’s that going to do for you against an enemy capital vessel? This goes against every tenant of naval doctrine pre or post uplift.”
“We would have time until they saw our light coming out of warp. With that momentary advantage we could warp back out if the situation was untenable. We’ve already tested the drive and it’s proven capable of producing a suitable warp field less than five minutes after coming out of jump space.”
“The Lancer had the same advantage and she isn’t here right now, Natori. The only case in which your plan works is if the Lancer suffered mechanical failure or if it ran into a natural or synthetic anomaly that affects ships based on their mass, which would admittedly be less effective against yours since you appear to have a Dakota class sized hangar in here as well.”
“I estimate the likelihood of such a scenario to be rather high, Marshall.”
“And if you’re wrong your crew will pay with their lives,” Winters hissed.
“As will I!” Natori bellowed. “You can accuse me of many things, Winters, but cowardice is not among them. For too long my division has rested in the shadows of Omega and Delta while providing you with everything you need to do the extraordinary things you do. We will not remain in that shadow any longer.”
“So this is a personal glory mission?” Osmundson cut in disparagingly.
“If it gets your people back what do you care, William? I know as well as you do that you have no ships.”
Silence again filled the room as the three men looked at one another. The electricity was palpable. “Dad, please,” Alice said softly. “Let us try to find him.”
“Us?” Winters repeated with cold fury. “Us?!”
“Your daughter has a keen mind and an impressive resume, Marshall. She’s a natural candidate for one of the research positions.”
“Winters, calm down,” Osmundson cut in, watching his old friend’s face as it changed to the passive mask that he used to wear during operations. “Natori do you really think it’s wise to send another of Winters’ children on this mission even if you get approval?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“I already have approval, General.” Winters’ teeth had ground the butt of his cigar into mash. Osmundson looked ready to join him. “It will be announced tomorrow. The Event Horizon will begin its maiden voyage along the trail established by one of Omega’s most successful scouting vessels, the Lancer. We just won’t come out of the same warp point everyone back home expects. I intend to find your son and the rest of his crew and bring them home. The shuttles to Luna will conclude their launches within the week. We can be out of system by next Monday.”
“Dad?”
“You’re not to go, Alice.”
“I’m twenty seven, dad! This isn’t your call to make!”
“Do not test me now, young lady, not now! Do you have any idea what your mother would do if she lost both of you?!”
For the first time since he’d entered the room Natori’s confident demeanor faltered as he imagined a grieving mother. The raven-haired young woman reached for her father’s hand.
“And it will tear me apart knowing he’s out there and I’m not going after him when I could have. You always told us to push the boundaries, dad. The Event Horizon is revolutionary. It has some of the best labs and nano-fabricators ever made. This is my chance to work on some of the projects that will define humanity! Please, I’ve wanted this from the day I signed up.”
Well Winters, I can’t say I envy you fatherhood right now, Osmundson thought, watching his old friend closely as his face slowly changed and cycled through rage, understanding, and the cold murderous intent he usually reserved for the people trying to kill him. The marine eventually relented.
“If you get my daughter killed, Natori, I will ensure you die painfully.”
“If she meets her end among the stars, Marshall, there won’t be any of me left to kill. You have my word.”
Marshall turned to face his daughter. “Alice, you’ll be coming home with me on the next shuttle to New York. You will spend the night with your mother, brother, and sister and you will tell them all about your exciting new opportunity aboard the Event Horizon as it traces the path of the Lancer’s last completed mission. You will remain at home until the day of your shuttle’s launch. Is that clear, young lady?”
Alice wanted to jump for joy. The nerdy girl inside her was screaming with delight. She was going to follow her little brother off-world. She was going to work among the stars on the Event Horizon! She stood and saluted her father. “Yes sir. I apologize, Admiral Kaczynski, I hope you didn’t pay for a second ticket on the shuttle back to Houston.”
“Think nothing of it, young lady. While you are enjoying the New York countryside I would suggest you review the crew dossier that will be sent to you and everyone who receives final approval for this mission. While an adviser is not required, you may wish to seek one out as you work towards your doctorate.”
“Yes sir, I’ll do that. And thank you again, sir…for telling me the truth.”
“I’m sure you father will impress this upon you, Alice, but the only reason you know of our destination at this time is because you are family. The rest of the crew will be made aware one hour before departure, giving everyone enough time to decamp to Luna base if they do not wish to carry out the mission. Watch for your shuttle assignment. General, Colonel, I apologize for the interruption. I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Just bring my ship home, Natori,” Osmundson replied. The two men exchanged salutes before Kaczynski turned to Winters.
“Be strong for Sandra, Marshall. We’ll find him.”
The old soldier gritted his teeth but nodded. “I’ll not deny help where it’s given, especially since you seem committed to this mission. May God protect you all.”
“I never took you for a religious man, Marshall.”
“It’s true what they say about atheists and foxholes. And I never took you for a Kaczynski, Natori, but thank you.”
The admiral smiled at them both and bowed cordially. “Then I’ll be on my way, gentlemen. I look forward to reviewing your work, Alice.” With that he departed, delivering a final farewell to Alfred the VI. Winters and Osmundson extinguished their cigars and shook hands.
“Can’t say I expected that, but Natori’s always been a wildcard. That being said, he is where he is for a reason. We may not like it Marshall, but we don’t exactly have a choice. I had no idea that thing was operational already.”
“I know, William. If he gets back I’ll buy every damn sailor on that ship a drink. Thank you for seeing me unannounced.”
“Anytime, old friend. Give my best to Sandra and the kids,” Osmundson said with a nod to Alice.
“Of course. By the way, congratulations on not killing that plant. I swear that thing’s as old as the HEL itself.”
“Oh, you mean Steve? Something tells me that plant’s going to be around when we’re both in the dirt. If that swill they claim is coffee can’t kill it, I don’t think I could,” Osmundson declared, the two men engaging in just a bit of revelry now that there was a sliver of hope that the Lancer could be searched for on a timely basis. With a final salute, Winters and his daughter bade the General farewell and descended the stairs of the building before emerging into the late afternoon Florida sun. As they made their way along the path to the transit hub, flanked by swaying palm trees, Alice hugged her father tightly. She took in the familiar and comforting scent of Nicaraguan tobacco that had come to define him as he aged. Contrary to what one might have expected given his career or service, he easily threw an arm around his daughter’s shoulders.
“I’m very proud of you, Alice.”
“Thanks dad.”
“Just remember your escape pod drills and zero gravity training.”
“I will. Russell taught me all about that stuff! He was better than half my instructors. Do you…do you think there’s a chance he’s alive.”
“There’s always a chance, Alice,” Winters affirmed as they swiped their HEL ID’s and made their way to the terminal for the northeastern shuttles. “But without knowing what happened to the Lancer all I can say is that your brother is one of the most capable human beings alive when it comes to survival skills. I don’t say that lightly. He was also given a prototype VI designed for front line combat and exploration.”
“I just hope he’s not out there all alone,” Alice whispered, suddenly reminded of her childhood fear of the vastness of space and the eventual heat death of the universe.
“Me too, dear. Me too.”
-----
Veera awakened to the sound of snow melt dripping from her roof. She listened to the tinkling of rivulets of water that collected beneath the overhangs of every building in the village and flowed along the drainage routes to eventually be deposited outside the palisade. Seil was rising earlier and higher in the sky each day. The time of Kel was almost at a close. Spring was upon them. Io and Fenrir snoozed together at the foot of the bed, the young hyrven having taken a liking to the moon-shaped standby image that the AI projected during her slumber. The cozy feeling within vanished as she turned to look down at the face of her husband. His brow was furrowed and she could make out beads of sweat despite the still cool temperatures of dawn on Mara. With tender care she leaned down and kissed his shoulder, working her way along his clavicle, up his neck, along the shell of his jaw and finally arriving at his lips. She found them awake and responsive, diving in as he groaned and shifted beneath her.
“Another nightmare?” She asked when they broke apart.
He nodded, rendering a simple reply that conveyed his undying gratitude as well as his determination to say no more on the subject. “Thank you, Veera.”
“When you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen,” she insisted, settling herself down upon him and eliciting a satisfied moan from her human. “Now that you’re not going anywhere for a while, are we ready to leave tomorrow?” Veera’s giggle turned into a gasp as Winters grabbed her hips and slowly thrust into her, filling her completely. They rocked into an easy rhythm that had Veera laying herself on his chest and her tail roaming merrily over his legs. Winters kissed her as her body slowly began to work them along the road to climax.
“I know what you’re doing, Veera,” he informed her in the low, guttural voice that she was coming to understand meant he wanted very much to mate her.
“I figured it was pretty obvious, my human.”
“Thanks, beautiful.”
“I’d do it even if you dreamed the sweetest of dreams every night.”
“Wouldn’t be as sweet as this. I love you,” Winters affirmed, feeling the heat of his partner’s body loosen the shackles of his mind. “It was my family this time, not the raid.” Veera kissed him sorrowfully and he could feel her center slow its movement in response to her change in mood. He compensated by rolling his hips gently against her, stroking her fur and caressing her lips.
“I’m so sorry, Russell.”
“Veera, there’s always a chance I’ll see them again. There’s nothing for me to complain about.”
“I have closure, Russell. You don’t. You remember our vows? I will always lend you an ear.”
“I don’t think I could ever forget, Veera. Enough about that, come here.” At his insistence Veera held him tightly and the two of them pushed one another towards and over the inevitable cliff. She whimpered into his neck and bit down softly, delighting in the fact that even after many cycles she still found a thrill in bringing her mate to completion. He clearly felt the same as he bit and kissed at the shell of her ear, finally answering her question as they both came down from the peak.
“I’ll be paying Ratha’s temple a visit today, believe it or not. Need to pick up that tent and some blankets for us, flint and tinder, that sort of thing. Then Io and I will head on out to the pod, get every battery we can as well as whatever weapons and gear are still there, and set up our signal. Then it’s back here for our last dinner with the young ones. You’re all squared away with Staroth?”
“Yes, darling. We’ve agreed that for now there’s no reason to go looking for new recruits. That can wait until the last of the rubble is cleared and the new homes are built. I’ll be on gate duty this morning and then I have the afternoon free to say farewell to Gentia, Thantis, and Antoth. Do you think there’s something wrong between him and Ratha?” Veera inquired with a bit of concern in her voice.
“That was out of left field, why do you ask?”
She was about to ask what left field was when Io joined the morning conversation. ‘She’s not pregnant yet, you dolt.’
“Aww, is the AI cranky?” Winters teased, looking down the bed at Io’s projection, which had in turn awakened Fenrir. The pup promptly hopped off the bed and went outside to relieve himself against the wall of their house.
‘I’m about to be locked up within my own mind for twenty out of twenty one hours in the day while this fanged beast over here gets to romp and play to his heart’s content for months. Though he certainly gets points for no longer urinating on everything in sight.’
“Aww, who’s a good boy?” Veera cooed, prompting the now sizeable hyrven pup to hop up onto the bed and integrate himself into the post-coital snuggle session. He was soon rewarded with a gentle brushing from Veera. “But yes, Russell, I was referring to the fact that Ratha is still without cub. I know it hasn’t been a full season so she might not have been fertile but…”
“Something tells me that’s none of our business,” Winters demurred, not wanting to consider Antoth and Ratha getting down to business. “If you’re of a mind, ask Antoth when you see him today. He hasn’t said anything to me about it but I guess you never know with that guy. It could be any manner of things, all of which are between the two of them.”
“I suppose you’re right. I just hope he’s well. I know he didn’t want to be priest of Seil,” Veera said sadly before rising and busying herself with breakfast. Winters took over the comforting of Fenrir, now the size of a mature ocelot. The pup had done nothing but put on mass for the entirety of winter and was now full of energy with spring on the way. His coat had begun to change too, with speckles of brown and gray mixed in with his pure white infant coat. It was difficult to top mating with Veera, but watching her wander about their home, clothed only in her fur, with a smile on her face and humming a tune to herself was a close second. Fenrir’s company didn’t hurt either, as the cub seemed to share very little of the excitability common in domestic canines. About an hour later the two were dressed and ready for the day, with Veera taking Fenrir’s leash. “I’ll see you tonight, feather kitten,” Winters promised with a peck on the lips. Veera reciprocated before turning and heading off towards the eastern half of the village.
‘I swear that little hyrven becomes cuter with every passing day,’ Io remarked, gazing after the pup’s wagging tails and waddling gait. ‘I wonder when they transition from cute, bumbling furball to murder machine.’
“Sooner than we’d like, I’m sure,” Winters opined, heading north through the alleys that would eventually lead him to the temple of Valta. When he entered he found it much the same as it had been for the last couple of months, the only change being that with most of the ursae meat preserved in various forms the hunters had moved on to fashioning tools, leather, and pelts from the less perishable parts of the beast. The hunters present turned to look at him, most of whom at least acknowledged him with a nod or curt wave.
“I’m here to pick up the gear I commissioned a while back, is it ready?” Winters looked around as the hunters glanced silently at one another, sharing some unknown knowledge. He was about to ask what had rendered them all mute when Ratha stepped out from behind the pelt that separated her chambers from the rest of the space. Immediately the hunters sitting around tables in the back returned to their game of dice, the rest resuming their work of honing bone knives and scrapers, or preparing hide for tanning and salting.
“Yeah human, it’s done,” she informed him as though challenging him to a duel. Io threw her hands up in confusion as he cocked his head at the short, well-built Cauthan.
“Without booby traps?” He asked, earning her knife whistling towards him again in recompense. This time he reached out and snatched it from the air, confident that the material of his gauntlets would hold against the admittedly well sharpened edge of bone. He wasn’t disappointed, seeing only a tiny groove carved into the dark, flexible surface. Ratha clearly was.
“You’ve got to be joking. Does that armor have any weaknesses?” She demanded as Winters strutted up to her and returned the blade. She replaced it at her waist with a huff.
“If I told you that I’d have to kill you,” Winters informed her with ill-concealed humor, laughing as Ratha drew the knife again and attempted to stab him repeatedly from his shoulder on down to his waist and thighs, the bone blade clanging uselessly against space age alloys. Winters allowed her to vent for a moment before slapping the blade away.
“You have my stuff or what?”
“Yeah, I’ve got your stuff. Nice bloody armor, by the way. Get in here,” she ordered, leading the way back to her private room. Winters looked around at the other Cauthan who were doing a very poor job of trying to look busy while focusing intently on the actions of their high priestess and the alien.
“You’re not fooling anyone, you know that?” Winters yelled to the room before following after Ratha’s auburn tail. He sat at her insistence as the Cauthan made her way to a normally unoccupied corner of the room which was now stacked full of gear. She grabbed the first item and brought it to him.
“Standard hunter pack designed for multi-day treks. Tent gets bundled under here with the leather straps, water skin goes here, torch on the opposite side if you have one, and there’s a separate compartment inside that’s double lined with leather for food. Don’t put anything bloody in it,” Ratha ordered as though certain Winters would do exactly that the moment he got a chance. As he began to look it over she turned and retrieved the tent.
“Ursae leather tent, standard design.” She dumped it on the table and allowed Winters to fix it to the leather straps hanging from the underside of the pack before grabbed yet another item.
“Standard hunting bow and six arrows.” Winters noticed they were not fletched with Ratha’s own feathers, but she was already headed back to the pile.
“Two water skins, a tinder box, and an ursae blanket large enough for two…” Ratha’s disgruntled noise made it very clear what she thought about Winters and Veera sleeping together under the stars.
“Yes yes, I get it. Enough of your passive aggressive bullshit, Ratha. I didn’t even commission these items with you. Why the hell are you the one doing all this?”
“Suppose I owe you that much. Tea?” Ratha asked. Winters was too heavy in the Aegis to fall out of his chair so Io did it for him, clattering to the ground of his HUD with an audible thud before walking off-screen with a call of ‘I give up’.
“You know what, why the hell not? I’ve been missing dangerous situations since I took that ursae down,” Winters reasoned, removing his helmet and extending his translator to Ratha, wondering what she’d do with it. After the requisite look of disgust she fitted it into her ear canal and set about the fire.
“How far do you intend to go?” Ratha asked once she’d set water to boil. Winters knew the surprise was showing on his face.
“As far as we can over the course of a season,” he told her. She looked intently at him.
“I envy you, human.”
“I…you what?”
“Our ancestors came all this way on a quest to figure out what the world held for us, or so the stories go. Well, we found a decent little spot in the forest, sure, but there are tribes to the north and south. We didn’t go as far as we could go. I want to know what’s out there just as bad as anyone else…but the longest I’ve ever been out is about half a cycle,” Ratha explained, absently adding dried leaves to mugs.
“The hunt when you killed those raiders?” Winters asked seriously, watching as Ratha’s neck snapped his way and she fixed him with a gaze of ice.
“Scarface told you, didn’t he?”
“He did, and he’s still in awe of what you did, Ratha.” Winters felt his mouth hook a slight grin as Io held up a sign in his visor requesting what in the HEL he was doing. “How are the two of you, by the way?”
“None of your damn business,” the huntress snapped, roughly passing him a mug that sloshed a bit of brew onto the table.
“Antoth’s a close friend and comrade. It is some of my business,” Winters insisted, wondering what in the name of the gods was compelling him to poke at a question that he’d insisted that very morning was off limits. Ratha obviously shared that sentiment.
“You first then. How are you and…Veera?” The huntress stumbled over the name but smirked at him anyway, feeling she’d laid down an appropriate challenge. Winters replied with a shock and awe approach.
“She and I mate pretty much every morning. Sometimes she’ll sleep in and I’ll make breakfast though. Other than that it’s pretty much the most blissful thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said happily before taking a sip of his beverage. “Not bad, thanks Ratha.”
“Gods damn you,” the huntress whispered, looking down and away from him.
“What’s wrong? Trouble for the queen of the Cauthan?”
“I’m no bloody queen.”
“You’re the most powerful female in the village other than maybe Gentia, and that’s a different power. Antoth is high priest but that’s the same thing as a king. You command absolute obedience from that group out there.” Winters jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate her hunters. “All that and one Cauthan is giving you issues?”
“He’s not just one Cauthan, you insufferable alien! He’s the only Cauthan that matters!” Ratha whispered vehemently before biting her tongue and baring her teeth at him. Winters frowned.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“That’s between us and us alone, human. Don’t you dare presume to come between us.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Winters assured her earnestly. “Just take care of him. I’m sure you know more than anyone that he’s stressed by everything riding on his shoulders.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told you the night you left to slay that ursae, human. I know him better than you ever will. And I love him more than anyone on this damn world ever will. I will enjoy every moment you and that feisty little half-breed are gone.”
“If you hate me so goddamn much why did you make me and Veera a bunch of camping gear?” Winters demanded.
“Because Valta would curse me if I didn’t give you the best this temple can offer. You intend to explore her wilds beyond anything even I’ve seen. In that endeavor and that endeavor alone, you have my whole support. Bring back something worthy of the goddess, human.”
Io had twisted her neck almost in an owl-like contortion trying to display her confusion at Ratha’s reason. Winters knew he wasn’t faring much better. “I…thank you then, Ratha. If you weren’t such an irredeemable bitch you’d make a great HEL Jumper.”
“What the hell is that?”
“My unit, the type of soldier I was trained to be.”
“Save your redemption, human. Antoth and I will find it in one another and that will be all I ever need,” she declared passionately. Winters nodded dumbfounded, unable to deny the words and demeanor of the Huntress. Strange as it seemed she was passionately in love with Antoth, and showing it in a way only Ratha could. Winters cleared his head and gathered his things, slinging the pack over his shoulder and then the bow. He drained his beverage with a final gulp and set the mug gently on the table, still unsure what to make of Ratha’s constant oscillation between insufferable and completely reliable.
“I’ll try to do the goddess proud, Ratha. Thank you for this. Try not to be such a prickly bitch while I’m gone, eh?” He saluted with a wave over his shoulder only to feel Ratha’s knife clatter off his back plating.
“Worry about yourself, you insufferable alien.”
“I’ll miss you too.”