MotherShip (28 page)

“What will we do?” Kyle asked after the silence had settled again.

“I will let Rawlon decide,” Rok said. “But I see only two paths. One is that Rawlon's words, and those leaders of the other Bands joined with his words, will convince the old Chieftains.”

“And the other path?” Kyle asked into the darkness.

“We will have to break the horns of all those who oppose.”

Jaric watched silently as Becky looked out the window that looked out over the underground city park. These vast underground cities were weird places, but the Kraaqi sure seemed to enjoy their subterranean civilization. He had been surprised when, after all their hiding on the surface those long, treacherous hours in the jungle after they had landed in secrecy, Rok had simply led them to the city's entrance, flashed his big smile at the guards, and down everyone went...

It had taken them two days to reach this world, but in that time Rok had shared much about Kraaqi civilization.

The Kraaqi built their cities underground so as to allow the natural harmony of the planet to remain undisturbed in its wild state above. On their first world, the Kraaqi had built great cities on the surface. But they soon realized that the sprawling metropolises interfered with the natural harmony of the wildlife as their giant structures replaced the natural habitats. To remain at one, the Kraaqi began to build their cities underground—even on that first world. With the discovery of subsequent worlds, all cities were built underground.

Rok led them to Rawlon's home world, the home world of his Band. As the first evening settled after they entered the city, Rok and Kyle left on their mission to Rawlon. The rest of their group came to this place, to the well-lit suburbs of Kalaya, the capital city, and the rented rooms of a major hotel.

That had surprised him, as once the warriors had actually reached this hotel they had simply pulled out their credits and obtained a room while Rok and Kyle continued on separately into the heart of the city as if nothing covert had happened.

He watched as three of Rok's Kraaqi warriors became boisterous over a card game they were playing in one corner of the room. For a moment, it looked like they were ready to pull their short daggers out and settle the score with blood, but at the final moment they seemed to agree on the outcome as they slowly returned to their seated positions—laughing and slapping each other on the shoulders as comrades once again.

Jaric's thoughts returned to his favorite obsession as the lights of the ceiling danced across Becky's hair like sunlight on a waterfall as she entered the room.

He had blown it on the Mewiis ship.

He clenched his eyes shut with regret.

“Are you alright?” Becky asked, concern in her voice.

Jaric smiled at the sweet sound of her voice. He opened his eyes. “I'm—” he paused. “I'm just stupid, that's all,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“An honest man. They're hard to find these days,” Becky said with a smile.

Jaric grimaced.

Becky laughed out loud. With a twinkle in her eyes, she walked up to the couch where Jaric lay stretched on his back. She first put the back of her hand on his forehead, checking him for fever. Satisfied, she then brushed her fingers through his dark hair. “I thought you were a goner for sure back there, Jaric.”

Jaric rolled his eyes and whistled. “You weren't the one lying inside its throat either.” He felt himself shiver as he recalled his recent brush with death.

She leaned closer.

Jaric's body stiffened with rising excitement.
Is she going to kiss me?

Instead she sniffed the air around him.

Jaric sighed audibly.

“You need to take another shower,” Becky announced with confidence.

“I've already had eight,” Jaric complained.

“You'll probably need ten more then,” Becky said. “Whatever that plant predator uses to digest its prey—” She paused in thought, trying to find just the right word.

“It stinks,” Jaric finished for her.

Becky smiled mischievously. “Well, I was going for a more descriptive phrase, one that would explain your distinctive cologne in a more colorful way.”

Jaric laughed out loud.

Becky continued, placing her finger next to her forehead for intellectual emphasis. “I would say this most unique aroma you have picked up is best described as a cross between a dead animal...”

Jaric laughed louder

“...that's been dead a about month, mixed with some sun-ripened dung...”

Jaric's laughter grew so hard his stomach began to ache with sheer delight.

“...and some well preserved dinosaur farts, all mixed together thoroughly and then mixed in a bottle of Guantan piss.”

“In other words, it
stinks
.” Jaric laughed.

“Yes,
you
stink,” Becky added between their laughter.

Jaric leaned back as his laughter slowly subsided. Of course, he could no longer tell he had any kind of aroma left on his person. His nose had been numb and unable to notice smells since he had been swallowed yesterday—and then quickly vomited back out by the plant predator.

Becky's gentle jabs, as well as Rok and Kyle's not-so-gentle jabs, had already gotten old, and had even begun to wear on his nerves at times.

Still, there was one side benefit—Becky had not left his side since the Kraaqi had pulled him feet-first out of the predator plant's bile. Now here they were alone at last. He would have nurtured some kind of romantic hope for their current semi-privacy, except for the embarrassing memory of their last time alone together and his fumbling revelation of love for her.

“I wish I could take back last time,” Jaric said in a low voice.

“You mean when you told me that you loved me?” Becky asked.

He sighed despondently. “Yes, I wish I could take that all back.”

“What, you mean you don't love me now?” She placed her hands firmly on her hips as her eyes narrowed.

“No, no. I still love you. What I mean, well, I wish I could've told you in a different way.”

“You mean without knocking me down and nearly beating me black and blue?”

Jaric smiled. But it faded when Becky did not smile back. “Yeah, it just turned out all wrong. Nothing like I ever dreamed it would.”

“Alright, lover boy.” The faintest of smiles flashed across her mouth. “Tell me what every girl wants to hear.”

Jaric felt his heart begin to pound like a runaway jackhammer. Beads of sweat suddenly covered his forehead and his mouth went bone dry. “Um,” he began with masculine finesse.

The young woman raised a single eyebrow knowingly.

“Um—” Jaric repeated, still speechless and not exactly sure what every woman wanted to hear.

“You're going to blow this again, aren't you?”

“No, no,” Jaric blurted. “I'm just making sure I say it right.”

“I see, thinking before you speak. What a concept.”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“Well, at least you're thinking again. Okay, let's forget about what happened on the Mewiis ship.” Becky's eyes searched his with a sudden intensity. “Just tell me what you
feel
for me.”

With her beautiful face suddenly so close to his, as he felt her breath caress his face and her eyes look deeply into his own, Jaric felt his heart begin to beat right out of his chest. Even as he felt his old confidence return, he was overwhelmed with a feeling of
déjà vu
.

But Jaric was going to profess his true feelings as he had so many times in his mind—exactly in the way had always dreamed it.

“I love you,” he said with a confident sincerity.

Becky smiled at him, like he always knew she would. A smile that was part happiness—part love. Her face bent nearer.

They kissed tenderly, their lips pressed ever so softly.

The moment seemed to last forever. Time stood frozen with their mutually held breath. Jaric felt her silky blonde hair fall around each side of his face with tantalizing softness. Finally, as their faces parted and their eyes opened, the beating of the other's heart was easily audible.

“I love you, too,” Becky whispered.

The sounds of marching footsteps echoed from the darkness of the stone walls.

Kyle heard Rok begin to stir himself from his light slumber, still crouched and ready like a true Kraaqi warrior. Kyle's eyes had adjusted during the night and he could barely discern Rok's shadowy form directly across from him.

Kyle rose from where he had rested his shoulder against the wall in a half-crouching posture.

“You will wait for my word,” Rok whispered. “Stay.”

Kyle nodded agreement and rested on one knee as he listened in silence. Even in the darkness, he could feel his tension building with each footstep.

The sound of marching footsteps entered the great room that was still bathed in complete darkness; muffled orders were quickly given and the footsteps moved apart with precision steps. Suddenly, a single light pierced the darkness with a surreal intensity. Around that shining beacon, the immense room took shape.

Seconds later another torch was started; then a third and fourth until a dozen were burning in large metal braziers. Each brazier glistened under the flames, revealing their bronze stands. The huge bowls that held the flames stood six feet above the rock floor, each bowl held aloft by an intricately carved staff.. The dancing flames sparkled against the metallic carved images with a hypnotic effect.

Kyle watched as the room's true dimensions became visible with the growing light.

The dozen warriors now drew together and formed a single line facing the large entrance. As the next group of warriors stepped through, the first dozen drew their swords from their scabbards as one and brought the flat blade of each weapon before their faces in salute.

It was obvious to Kyle that some of this second group were leaders. But the warrior who walked at the rear, his head held high and sure, seemed subtly different from the rest. His piercing gaze surveyed the room as if he owned it, his great muscular chest rising with each breath and straining the leather tunic he wore. There was no doubt in Kyle's mind that this warrior was the greatest of all Kraaqi gathered in this room.

“Rawlon!” Rok shouted from his hiding place in the darkness.

Kyle almost jumped out of his skin with the unexpected shout.

The single word evoked an immediate reaction from every one of the Kraaqi warriors before them. Those who wore sheathed swords now drew them out, but they did not bring them up in salute. Each of the Kraaqi quickly spread out in a battle crouch facing the darkness that engulfed the edges of the great meeting room.

Only Rawlon remained visibly unalarmed as he gazed steadily in the direction from which his name had been shouted. With unhurried steps, he strode toward the still unseen Rok, a confident look on his face.

Finally, as he reached the edge of the darkness, he stopped. Two bodyguards quickly stepped on either side of him with swords raised.

“Who are you?” Rawlon's voice was powerful and deep and carried the tone of absolute command.

“I am Rok, First Commander, Band of the Stars,” Rok spoke from the darkness.

Rawlon nodded a moment with recognition, and then he motioned at his two bodyguards. As they stepped away, leaving the Kraaqi First Captain alone, Rawlon raised his head higher and paused, looking like a dangerous animal that was ready to strike.

With a flash of movement, he drew his sword from the scabbard on his left hip, and then with his left hand he drew a dagger from the scabbard on his right hip. He stood with both arms raised, the weapons steady and pointed directly at the darkness where Rok now stood.

“Come to me Rok, Band of the Stars. Bring your weapons raised for battle,” Rawlon growled. “For you have insulted my rank and title as First Captain of all the Kraaqi.”

Kyle almost groaned, but hushed the sound. He was beginning to think these mighty warriors were just a bit too sensitive about things.

“I come, First Captain, greatest warrior of all the Bands.”

Rok stepped out of the shadows, his sheathed sword banging against his leg as he walked cautiously toward Rawlon. As he neared Rawlon his right hand moved toward his own weapon, but instead of drawing his blade, with a flick of his hand he unbuckled the belt upon which his weapons hung. Raising his arm toward Rawlon, he held out the belt and sheathed weapons a moment—and then his hand opened. The belt and weapons fell with a loud clatter onto the rock floor.

Rok's steady gaze never left Rawlon's face. Now without his weapons, he raised both arms, his hands clenched but empty.

“I come in peace, Rawlon, but I admit, I have broken protocol and dishonored you. For this I must die.”

“You come with stealth and secrecy. Your Band has not been announced at my table. Nor has your name been given me so I might receive it.” Rawlon stepped closer. With a flash of his weapons, he twirled the blades and held them point down with his arms raised high. In a single quick motion, he sheathed first his sword and then his dagger. In another motion, he unlatched his belt and in similar fashion to Rok, he held it out and allowed it to drop with a clatter of metal.

“I will kill you with my bare hands,” Rawlon growled.

Kyle was shocked when Rok did not speak but instead began circling warily as Rawlon assumed his own battle stance. Surely Rok could explain his actions to Rawlon in a few sentences and stop this stupid fight.

Instead, Rok roared as he lowered his head and charged. Rawlon in turn lowered his head as he pointed his horns at Rok. He charged as well. With loud growls they closed on one another and the stone walls rang out as horn struck against horn. The two warriors twisted their necks with surprising speed, each in an attempt to bring their own horns into the face and neck of the other with a deadly intent.

The sound of their fists striking and landing with solid blows on the other's bodies added to the visual ferocity with which the attack began.

Kyle stepped from the shadows into the dancing firelight.

“Stop!” He shouted.