Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series) (2 page)

Bronsyn shrugged and turned away
from the window. “Agreed, but it is better than six
yons
.”

“I can understand the denial of providing
females by the Casticians, since they’re kept in virtual seclusion
as dictated by Qiztar and their holy book. But to be denied access
to Ater females…”

Bronsyn swiftly turned back to his friend,
disbelief clear in both his voice and posture. “Have you ever seen
an Aterian woman?” At Gwynt’s headshake of denial, Bronsyn
enlightened his council brother. “On Ater, no one considers gender.
They are all to be considered equal, except for the ruling party,
and their way of ensuring that is to appear sexless.”

Gwynt’s frown was one of confusion. “I don’t
understand.”

Bronsyn made his way back to the table holding
the remains of the Sansei wine and topped up his glass. “Imagine a
world full of people who look exactly like Comrade Trigor Koronyk.
Same bowl haircut, same military styled clothing, and same attitude
of iconoclasm. At first glance, one cannot discern who is female or
who is male, even with their young. Rumor has it that the women
bind themselves so as not to display their curves.”

“But that is…I mean, who would insist that a
female…” Gwynt’s stuttering echoed Bronsyn’s own when he had first
heard of the practice.

“That’s not all. Cosmetics and artificial
scents are illegal on the planet as well. The goal, at least as I
understand it, is to create a homogeny of their race. Everyone
appears equal. Therefore, all are equal.”

Gwynt stared at the floor, while he considered
the former Galaxi’s warrior words, only the top of his thinning
blonde hair visible. After several beats of silence, he asked,
“what, then of their family units if they’re all considered the
same? Which of the pair cares for their littles, their
young?”

Bronsyn hid his smile behind his glass. He’d
always loved the Nutrolite word for their young ones since
‘littles’ was exactly how they were considered on the agricultural
planet, or were until Sarbon’s gases had rendered reproduction an
impossibility. As soon as their young could walk upright, the
smallest segment of Nutrolite society were included in the family’s
workday in some capacity. Whether it was working a field, in the
care of animals or sustaining the home, back before Sarbon’s
destruction, everyone within a Nutrol family contributed. “The UPA
do not live in pairs, old friend. No, they only mate after an
official document attesting to their degree of compatibility is
given. Once impregnated, another test is performed and the most
suitable of the pair is appointed as ‘guardian’.”

“That’s just wrong on too many
levels to discuss at this late hour,” Gwynt murmured, setting his
glass down on the nearest shelf. “We’ll be orbiting Nutrol tomorrow
and I’ll be extending to the surface in the first group.” He
reached an arm out to Bronsyn to offer a goodbye in the manner of
his people. “Good journey, Bron, and
Gyed
be praised for her many
blessings on us both.”

“May
Tsiran
protect you and yours until we
meet again,” Bronsyn intoned as he grasped the forearm of one his
oldest friends. “I’ll send you a broadcast after the next Galaxi
Herald to keep you updated.”

“You people have more meetings than there are
grains of sands on your beaches.” Gwynt’s voice held a trace of
humor, incongruous with the seriousness of his face. Gwynt swiped a
hand at the panel next to the door in order to open it.

The former Galaxi warrior did not speak but
only shook his head to settle his gray-threaded, waist-length hair
that he counted as a symbol of his former glory, behind his
shoulders as he raised a hand in farewell.

At the soft swish of the closing
portal, Bron made his way to his
tresl
, the communications device that
kept him in contact with the Galaxi Herald, the ruling assembly on
his home world.

His heart was heavy at the information he had
to report. Gwynt had the right of it when he had asked if there was
no other choice but a galactic search for females, ones willing to
join and create families. As soon as Bronsyn’s report was received
the space-drones, all eight of the mechanical devices, would be
spewed into the galaxy filled with sensitive equipment that would
pick up the smallest whisper of sentient life on whatever planet
their trajectory took them.

If there was a possibility the drones might
find success in their endeavor, Bronsyn was more than for it. Their
worlds were dying, sentenced to extinction unless something was
done.

Throughout all of their recorded history,
through eons of time the four planets interacted, protected, and
shared knowledge between them.

Slowly Ater and Castic pulled away, preferring
to keep their societies free of outside influences, citing Galaxia
and Nutrol customs didn’t mesh with their own. What had started as
a coalition of like-minded worlds had decayed into nothing more
than a panel of negotiators intent on securing the best trade of
resources. The denial of access to their females along with the
refusal of Picari Alliance funds to pay for the proposed quest was
just their latest avowal to remain sequestered and isolated from
Galaxia and Nutrol.

There was no way for the other two planets, in
the whole of the four inhabitable worlds located in the Picari
system, to remain a constant stronghold without the Aterian’s and
Castician’s help.

On both Galaxi and Nutrol, the Aterians and
Casticians were subjects of ridicule, symbols of people repressed,
conquered, and held captive by their antiquated beliefs. They
depended on Galaxia to provide the technology giving them a
hand-up, a step-up in the trades allowing the planet to
prosper.

Their recent meeting showed Ater and Castic’s
greed and Bronsyn wondered how long the plans had been in place,
allowing the two other planets to die out. How long had they had an
eye on the takeover of the fruitful planets? To his knowledge,
approval was only given for the most simplistic technological
devices and to the import of fruits, vegetables and fresh meat. Up
until today, Bronsyn had scoffed their lack of knowledge in all
modern systems.

After their proposal, their glaring lack and
overconfidence in their abilities was disturbing.

The droids were the first step in securing a
future.

‘Will it be enough?’ his mind whispered the
question, but his heart echoed it as a plea.

He bowed his head, offering a
silent, fervent prayer to
Tsiran
. ‘
Protectorate of us all, help us in our quest. Assist us as we
seek out mates for our more than worthy warriors in order to
replenish our dying worlds.
’

Chapter Two

“We have received Droid Six’s
report,” Herald president, Stace Allwyne announced, his mouth close
to the microphone. His amplified voice overrode all the other
conversations in the spacious domed room of the Galaxian capital
of
Renx
. As the
pop of his last ‘T’ resounded, all conversation stopped and every
face turned to the podium. He had the attention of each of the
Herald’s elected senate, as he continued. “We have confirmation of
sentient life, and the data received indicates, they are
humanoid.”

From Bron’s perspective, a dropped
tailor’s
nadle
could have been heard in the reigning silence. His blue eyes,
such a very pure shade of blue and a mark of his tribe, roamed over
the gallery of his peers who were just as awestruck as he
was.

“Shall I show you our findings?” the president
asked, but before anyone could offer an answer, he waved his hand
over an outcropping of panels set in front of him on the higher
dais. Almost instantly, a holographic image appeared but the images
flashed by too quickly to see. That was, until the audio kicked
in.

“Hi, my name is Tiffany and I’m 29 years old.
I’m into yoga, discovering new restaurants and spending time with
just one special person,” the voice proclaimed. However, the voice
that echoed around the room was disjoined from the vision of the
brown-haired beauty captured in the holographic image before him.
“I’m looking for a successful man who knows what he wants and makes
me feel like a princess.”

The words he heard were in the
universal Picari language and did not match the movement of the
woman’s mouth in the image. But oh dear
Tsiran
, those lips! Puffy and wetly
gleaming in the vid, they captured the attention of every man in
the room. As did her softly given giggle at the end of her
speech.

It had been so long, so many
yons
since the men of
Galaxia had heard a female’s voice, much less the tinkling mirth in
one. A delightful sound that held every Herald member
spellbound.

Bron felt his
tailpor
begin to swell at not only
her image, of her pixilated perfection but at the sound of her
merriment. From the shifting of his fellow Herald members, he knew
he was not the only one affected.

“Drone Six sent back thousands of these images
and only by the use of a primer has our computer translated the
words,” Stace pronounced into the microphone, his voice louder than
the holographic female’s. “It seems we have not only discovered a
planet of humanoids but also one that has females looking for
mates.”

There was the sound of movement and Bron found
he was not alone in sitting straighter in his chair. Had President
Allwyne said thousands, and all were looking for mates?

“Our scientists are working with the
programmers to determine the reason for the blue planet’s wealth of
unmated females. As near as they can tell, outside of wars and
disease, we find no reason to account for it. There is only a
slight variance of male to female in their population.” With eyes
the lightest of blue, Stace Allwyne allowed his gaze to peruse his
fellow Herald senators. “I call for a list of both Galaxian and
Nutrolite warriors who can leave within the next
wert
in order to begin
the journey to this planet that they call ‘Earth’.”

“We need a Quest Leader first,” male shouted
from Bron’s right. He was not sure but thought it was from Macai,
the senator from the electronic sector. Though he had never liked
the man, Bron thought the man had a point.

“I call forth Bronsyn Llent,” a booming voice
called from his left. Bron jerked in surprise at his
name.

“Second?” Stace shouted into the
microphone.

“Here,” came the call and try as he might, Bron
could not identify the speaker in the thirty-five members seated in
a semi-circle around the president’s podium.

“Any opposing?” Stace’s voice
overshadowed the next audio, every eye glued to the image before
them. It was of a human female with long flowing hair the color of
ripe Nutrolian wheat, a blonde so light that it appeared white. She
sighed and Bronsyn’s gaze moved to her beguiling green eyes, the
color of a Galaxian sunrise that tilted when she smiled. He felt a
flexing of his
tailpor
and tried to adjust himself secretly. However, by the other
senator’s movements, all struggled to contain their body’s
reactions to the beautiful female presented before them.

There was no other sound within the Senate
except for the robotic voice interpreting the speech of the
glorious beauty before them, “I’m really into fitness and expect my
mate to enjoy it too.”

“Motion granted.” Stace murmured his eyes
roaming over the holographic image, which had changed to a stunning
and exotic, dark haired, ebony-eyed female. Almost as an
after-thought he added, “I’ll review your selections of who will
make the journey with you, Llent, within the hera.”

Bron pounded a clenched fist to his
chest as his agreement before swiftly turning away and exiting the
huge hall. He had been preparing for just that moment in the
five
merts
the
drones had traveled. All he needed to do was contact Gwynt for the
list of Nutrolites to be included in the mission before meeting
with his president to confirm the warriors chosen.

He had never expected himself to be chosen as
part of the first wave of Searchers and was honored at the
appointment. Although the responsibility in ensuring its successful
outcome was daunting, Bronsyn’s heart lightened with the thought of
again commanding and leading an exploratory team into
space.

‘Tsiran’s
toes!
’ He thought, his long locks
flowing behind him as he raced to his office. ‘
It’s going to happen. It’s finally going to
happen!
’

*.*.*.*.*

A knock on her dressing room door had startled
Leah in her perusal of her image in the three-way
mirror.

“Ley? How you doing?” Pam’s voice called out.
Cracking the door, Leah poked her head out.

“I need a smaller size,” she announced with a
huge grin.

Pam’s bright blue eyes rounded. “Again? So
that’s, what? A ten or an eight?”