Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series) (5 page)

“We have narrowed our possibilities for landing
sites to…” Gwynt began, but he interrupted by Wyst’s growl,
Rykhan’s mumbled expletive, Gyard’s foot stomp, and the sound of
Arbrynt’s slap of the table. Only Bronsyn, Tyshar, and Laxon
remained silent and unmoving.

“We need a
Tsiran
blessed
fracking
landing point!” Arbrynt
shouted at the screen. “Just one! Why is that so hard for your
Committee to make a decision?”

Gwynt blinked at the reaction of the large men
and swallowed at Arbrynt’s question, although it might have been at
its disrespectful tone. “There are so many variables to consider
and other issues we must research within each choice. It makes a
clear-cut, snap decision both logical and safe very difficult. Our
selection must be made with full understanding of where we are
sending you.”

“We are aware of that, Gwynt.” Bronsyn tried to
be the voice of reason for both he and his men but even he was
tired of the vacillations of the Committee. They needed a decision
and they needed it immediately! “What are your choices?”

Gwynt rattled off coordinates, or the longitude
and latitudes as named on Earth, and Tyshar painstakingly entered
in each one. As the satellite image became dotted with symbols,
Bron saw more than a couple of the brawny warriors begin to fidget,
scowl and mumble. Gwynt’s voice wound down and Bronsyn decided it
was time for the Committee, especially the head of the
decision-makers, to witness what his men were experiencing. The
slow process of choosing any course of action always took a toll,
but especially in this scenario where so much was at
stake.

“What say you, warriors?” Bronsyn asked,
casting his eyes around the table now that all the warriors were
seated, although their varying postures attested to their
frustration.

“No snow. No cold weather,” Wyst announced with
a headshake, not specifying a particular place but rather his
choices in Earth’s different climates. “And since we’ll be there
during an Earth’s winter…”

“Only the top half has the coldness…” Gwynt
stuttered, seemingly surprised that a warrior would voice his
opinion so readily. Usually the large, burly Protectorates of
Galaxia and Nutrol were more circumspect, following the dictates of
those in charge without offering their views on any decision made.
However, the choice of these specific warriors was mainly because
they had stood out within the ranks.

“Yes, we are aware of the climate changes that
take place on Earth,” Tyshar added but even his normally cultured
voice sounded strained. “When it is cold on one half, the other
half has heat. I believe they call them seasons. Hot is summer and
cold is winter, with spring and autumn marking the
changes.”

“Don’t they have anything more moderate?
Something in between hot or cold?” Laxon, one of the quietest men
in the group, used his forefinger and middle digit to define a
region that spanned the middle of the planet to indicate what he
meant. The other men around the table all nodded their agreement,
up to and including Bron.

“As you can see, there are four choices within
the area you just denoted.” Why did Gwynt sound almost offended by
Laxon’s action? Was it the full agreement of the group in
superseding the recommendations of the decision-makers? “Is there
one choice you prefer over the others?”

Bronsyn’s at each man in turn. The warriors’
gazes collided with one another before moving on. A chin-lift from
each of the tall, burly men showed agreement for their ultimate
destination without Bron’s help or guidance.

Nevertheless, it was Gyard, the warrior holding
the most stripes, who finally spoke.

“33.4500 degrees North, by 112.0667 degrees
West,” the largest and most muscle-bound of the Quest’s enclave
pronounced as he flipped the lower layers of his yellow, long hair
over his shoulder, earning him multiple head nods. The other men
under Bronsyn’s command heaved relieved sighs at the verbalization
of their choice.

Bron, as the sole minority of one still glued
to the view-screen, sighed. However, it was Gwynt who responded.
“Very well. I will inform the other members of the Quest Committee
of your decision.”

“Can anyone read English yet?”
Tyshar asked into the silence the room following Gwynt’s sign-off.
When he didn’t receive an answer, Tyshar pulled up the online
dictionary with an audio program so all could hear the name of the
city chosen.

“
No matter how you pronounce
it,” Rykhan drawled, pushing himself away from the table. “We’ll be
calling it ‘home’ for a half
yon
.”

As the other men began to stand, Bron held up
his hand and asked them to wait. “Now that we have the place, it is
important that we begin to study. I want each man to choose one of
the categories I cited earlier and thoroughly study the nuances for
the place we will find ourselves upon landing. There will be a
daily meeting and you are expected to share your knowledge at that
time.”

An electronic voice filled the room.
“Phee-nicks” was all it said.

Rising to his feet, Rykhan spoke. “I’ll take
culture and mores.”

“I’ll study diet, health issues, and diseases,”
Laxon offered.

Gyard shifted in his chair before crossing his
arms on his chest. “I have an interest in their laws.”

“The monetary system,” Arbrynt said with a
nod.

Wyst sighed and shook his head. “So what does
that leave? Clothing styles and the expectations regarding a male’s
role in their society?”

“Or their political system,” Tyshar
added while still fiddling with his
tresl
.

“No thanks. I will take the clothing and
expectations. Politics are too dry for my taste.” Wyst glanced
around the circle of men with a cheeky half-grin.

“I find politics invigorating,”
Tyshar explained, finally turning his device off and raising his
head.

“What about you, Commander? What area will you
be researching?” Arbrynt’s question was not out of line since
Bronsyn was a hands-on commander who did not enjoy sitting on the
sidelines while his men did all the work.

Taking in a deep breath Bron replied, “I’ll
take the hardest subject.” His eyes roamed over faces now marked
with confusion. “The mating rituals of the Phoenix
humans.”

“Frack
! I’d
forgotten about that.” Wyst’s was not the only man who seemed
surprised by Bronsyn’s choice overlooked by the others.

“What happens when we have completed our
studies, though?” Gyard’s scowl was again firmly in
place.

Tyshar waited for someone else to answer but
when no one spoke, he jumped in. “Then we need to determine the
best way to contact these females seeking mates and approach
them.”

“Why can’t we just chose our one and be done
with it? All we need is a female for each of us, correct?” Laxon’s
question stopped all movement and sideline
conversations.

“But what if you choose one and she is not
interested in you? Or is unable to bear children?” Rykhan’s
questions drew the other male’s attention. “We need to discover as
much as we can about the females we pick. And as the first group on
this quest, it is up to us to learn as much as we are able in order
to educate those who come after us.”

“Well said.” A nod acknowledged Bronsyn’s
praise. “It is important we learn as much as we can in this first
search to save the upcoming quests the effort.” He glanced round
the room. “We’ll meet here tomorrow at 0800. Be prepared to discuss
your findings. Until then, you are dismissed.”

The room echoed with the sound of seven big men
as they stood and stepped to the exit even though none of them
spoke.

Bronsyn was the last to leave and he wondered
if he needed to contact Gwynt to get a read on how the other
members on their home worlds took the news that the warriors had
chosen their landing point. However, he quickly decided if the
Committee had a problem with the outcome, they could initiate
contact.

In the meantime, he had a subject to study, one
that he was already looking forward to researching.

Chapter Four

Bronsyn’s
tresl
, the smaller communications
device that he carried with him at all times, pinged to signal an
incoming message. Tyshar’s shuttle was returning to the
Searcher
after the first
journey down to the blue planet and while the stalwart warrior had
only been gone one
rota
, Bronsyn was anxious to begin the debriefing.

As evidenced by the other warriors who were
already in the observation room, he was not the only one. Talk was
minimal and each seemed wrapped in their thoughts as they awaited
Tyshar’s arrival. The commander took in the different postures of
his men, noting the tightened muscles and subtle nuances that gave
away the agitation each were trying to disguise.

“At least he was able to return
undetected,” Rykhan muttered from his place by the observation
window. Bronsyn knew the warrior was only admitting aloud what had
been on everyone’s mind since Tyshar’s skid had left the
Searcher’s
flight deck a
little more than twenty-one heras before. Would any of the Earth’s
satellites register the small shuttle as it traveled through their
airspace?

The much larger starship remained tucked into a
crater on the far side of the moon in order to stay hidden. All
communications were on a frequency not yet discovered by Earth’s
burgeoning technology. As far as Bronsyn could tell, the avoidance
tactics had worked in keeping their presence undetected by Earth’s
populace. Especially since Arbrynt had pointed out how the humans
of the planet reacted to what they considered ‘alien’. How even a
suspicion of differences—whether it was in religion, political
thought, or something as simple as skin color—could cause immediate
distress, hysteria and even war.

‘Barbaric,’ Bronsyn’s mind bellowed
and he caught himself shaking his head at his negative thoughts.
Now was not the time to be pessimistic, not when they had just
completed their first mission to the surface, especially into a
city the warriors had chosen to be their home for the next
six
merts
.

He swung his head as he heard the door to the
observation deck slide open and watched as Tyshar strode in, his
hands weighted down with what appeared to be some kind of plastic
satchels.

“Greetings, brothers,” the raven-haired warrior
called as he placed the full bags on the table. There was a
half-beat of stillness until the others of the group moved forward,
their questions filling the air even as their eyes scanned the
satchels. “Wait! One at a time, please!”

Bronsyn had never heard Tyshar laugh in the
whole of the journey and to hear it then, when everyone’s emotions
and curiosity was so high, seemed inappropriate.

“Perhaps we should just begin the
debriefing.” Bronsyn was surprised to find he, just as the other
warriors, was on his feet. Waving a hand towards the chairs, he
gave a silent offer to sit down before he spoke again. While the
men settled, he gave a nod to Tyshar. “Are you ready or do you need
a moment?”

“Certainly. Can we record this so I
don’t have to go through it again for Leader Stege?” Tyshar’s
suggestion was valid and Bronsyn set his
tresl
on the table, touching the
screen to put it into record mode.

“You may begin. Though, as warning, you will
probably be called to explain further as questions
arise.”

After giving his name, designation within the
Galaxian ranks, the date and the time, Tyshar provided his synopsis
of his journey to Earth’s surface. He highlighted the trajectory of
the shuttle, described the landing point’s landscape and detailed
the air quality as well as the amount of gravity present in the
atmosphere. Tyshar finally began to relate what Bronsyn considered
most important.

The interaction with Phoenix’s
humans.

“By now, I’m sure you’ve all seen my vid stream
of my time on the planet’s surface.” Tyshar did not look at the
other males, but Bronsyn nodded along with the rest. “And I’m sure
you have more answers for me than I have for you.”

Wyst laughed and the sound soon had all the
rest of them chuckling alongside him. “Yeah, brother, we
do.”

“Go ahead and restart his original stream,
Commander, and we’ll try to help Tyshar make sense of what was
going on.” Gyard’s face wore a huge grin as Bronsyn reset the
window to a viewing screen and accessed Tyshar’s initial recording.
The men twisted their chairs until they fully faced the screen in
anticipation.

‘Dude! Is comic-con back in town?’ The image
was of a young man just out of his teens, dressed in clothes too
big for his thin frame and wearing a hat with some kind of shade
ledge that shadowed his eyes. ‘That get-up is fucking awesome,
man!’

Bronsyn hit the pause button and turned his
attention to Rykhan, who spoke with his face towards the image.
“Comic-con stands for an event held in different cities throughout
the planet and whose theme is around picture books depicting
stories of supernatural heroes and their villains. Those who attend
garb themselves in attire representing their favorite characters or
inventing other characters most likely aligned with their
personalities.”