Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series)

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  “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.”

  He took a deep breath while glancing at Tyshar. “What he was inferring was that you were not dressed appropriately as one of the citizens of Phoenix, as indicated by the words, ‘get-up’ to represent your attire. Although he does offer you a compliment in saying it was ‘fucking awesome’.”

  “Where were you when this happened?” Gyard’s eyes remaining on the frozen image of the teen still on the screen.

&n
bsp; “Approximately eight miles west of the agreed landing point in MacDowell Mountain Ranch. A digital timepiece on the outside of a building said it was 8.04. From their sun’s direction, I believe it was morning.” Tyshar’s gaze flipped between the vid and the other warriors. “Acting on his tone since I didn’t understand what he meant, I simply nodded and kept moving west in order to make my way to make the appointment with the gold merchants.”

  It had been Arbrynt who had discovered humans traded gold-supported ‘money’ as the unit of currency. That metal adorned their dress uniforms to denote rank and the various campaigns in which they had participated. Bronsyn quickly determined an exchange of the Picari gold for green paper rectangles solved their money issues.

  “Shall we skip to your meeting with the merchants or do you need clarification on other points that happened before your appointment?” Bronsyn’s finger hovered over the symbol to move the vid to a different position.

  “I want Tyshar’s impression of human males, such as how they behaved when in the company of females.” Wyst’s voice held a note of confusion as he eyed Tyshar over his shoulder. “In some instances I noted they give deference by opening doors or stepping aside so the female could pass first, but not always.”

  “Yes, I noticed that as well,” Tyshar answered on a sigh. “But I could find no rhyme or reason for it. Not all the human males seemed to honor females, even those who appear to be under their protection. And even some of the unattached males occasionally deferred to human females.”

  “Interesting,” Rykhan breathed. “So would you call it ‘selective protection’?”

  Tyshar shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough information to qualify it yet.”

  Bronsyn advanced the recording until the view screen showed Tyshar in a building surrounded by stunning displays of the different shiny adornments humans chose to wear. After handing the handful of gold pieces to an officious older man, who placed the bits of gold on a antiquated scale.

  ‘I’ve never seen this design before, Mr. Rell,’ the man intoned before picking up one of the fancier campaign pins. ‘Do you know its origin?’

  ‘I believe it’s from a foreign war,’ Tyshar replied. ‘I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it.’

  The man placed a single ocular-piece up to his eye for a more careful study. ‘Stunning although I’m not familiar with the design, the gold appears to be only marginally mixed. What do you think, twenty-two karat?’

  ‘Yes, probably,’ Tyshar had answered and at that moment in the playback, he signaled for Bronsyn to pause the vid. “I had no idea what he meant.”

  “On Earth, their metals are rendered to their purest state and then melded with others. Gold especially is too soft to use without having additional metals added to it.” Arbrynt’s voice was firm but held a note of disbelief at the old-fashioned methods used. “Even so, the addition of the other metals does not seem to reduce the value of gold unless it goes below eighteen karats which is the English term for its purity. Without the alloys, pure gold is twenty-four karats. Our insignias at twenty-two karats mean there is less than 9% alloy in them.” The other man turned to look back at the screen. “In other words, Picari gold is very valuable.”

  “But he only gave me $2,300 for it,” Tyshar exclaimed. “Should I have negotiated for more?”

  Arbrynt pulled out his own tresl and pushed some buttons. “You only took 150 grams down to the surface, correct? So, while the exchange was on the low side, you were not cheated.”

  Tyshar let out his breath in relief. Bronsyn gave his full attention to the warrior who had braved the first encounter and assured Tyshar he had been successful in his first sojourn. “Well done, Protector Rell.”

  Thumping a fisted hand over his first heart, Tyshar gave a deep nod at Bronsyn’s words.

  The next few frames on the stream captured the various signs that lined the streets, which had Gyard leaning forward, studying intently. “There! That one! That is to show the limit of the speed their transports are to maintain while they travel. Also that one on the right? That is to show where they are allowed to park.”

  “Tsiran! How will we ever be able to travel unless we learn all of their rules?” Laxon was not the only one intimidated by the sheer chaos of the moving vehicles on the recording.

  Arbrynt rapped his knuckles on the table and Bronsyn again stopped the playback. “I’m already working on a solution, brothers. No worries. Just trust that I can work out a program and traveling by vehicle will not be a problem when I’m done.”

  Rykhan gestured to the bags bunched in the middle of the table. “What’s all this?”

  Tyshar reached for the first plastic satchel. “This, my fine warrior brothers, is what we will wear when we reach the surface.” Every eye in the room was on him as he began to drag out piece after piece of cloth. It was only then that Bronsyn noticed how his warrior was dressed.

  When Tyshar left, he had been wearing the standard Galaxi uniform of black leather trousers and sleeveless vest with boots. At some point though, he had altered his attire. “As far as I could tell, most human males dress simply unless they carry a small suitcase unit. The standard clothing for males is a simple shirt, these blue cotton pants, and shoes with thick soles.”

  “A t-shirt or a button-down also known as an ‘oxford’, jeans and sport shoes—which go by many names,” Rykhan corrected. “Did you get anything for us to go out in, something more in keeping with an upscale venue?”

  Tyshar nodded and reached for another bag. “Yes. For you and Wyst I picked out trousers made of a more formal fabric and design along with a dress jacket, a belt, and leather shoes.” He raised his gaze and grinned at Rykhan. “The sales clerk said it was perfect for ‘hooking up with the ladies’.”

  Wyst rolled his eyes but grinned when Rykhan shoved the new clothes into his hands.

  Bronsyn cleared his throat to regain the attention of the group. “Tyshar has set our TIPS in place and I have a lead on a rental domicile complete with furniture. While Rykhan and Wyst attend tomorrow night’s event, the rest of us will follow them to the surface and set up our residence.”

  “The search for our mates will begin,” Gyard clarified on a low growl.

  “Yes,” Bronsyn agreed and felt his stomach tighten.

  “It’s about fracking time,” Wyst added, shoving his new clothes back into one of the plastic bags.

  Chapter Five

  Rykhan Nillr pressed his palm to the panel next to his assigned room. As the door slid open, he twisted himself to fit through the narrow opening, the plastic carryall in his hands crinkling as he pulled it through. Everything onboard the Crusader was too small for his taste, not for men the size of the Protectorates. He could not imagine how Gyard or even Bron handled living in such small confines being the largest two of their group of seven. Though Rykhan was just as tall, he was not as broad and wondered how the other warriors coped with sleeping in a space small enough to allow him to stretch and touch the opposing walls easily.

  As the door swooshed shut, he tossed the bag to the metal floor before grabbing the tail of the belt that held his wrapped shirt closed. Even though the clothes they had been given were lightweight and finely made, he preferred to be nude within the confines of his cabin. The truth of the matter was that his sleep space was so small all it took to warm the space was the heat emanating from his body, frequently warming it to a level that was uncomfortable.

  Tossing the sleeveless shirt onto the narrow bunk built into the bulkhead, he reached for the drawstring of his pants while letting his mind roam over that day’s meeting.

  They had accomplished much in a short amount of time, such as, choosing the landing site, studying, and planning how to blend in as humans. Nevertheless, it had been Tyshar’s initial exploratory venture, initiated and strategically thought out by the warriors on quest instead of those who chosen to lead from afar. As ever, success had only come because the warriors had mounted the charge instead of debating the is
sue to death. No longer happy to wait for decisions to come down, the Protectorate warriors had stepped up and simply but succinctly stated their decisions.

  All done without any prior agreement.

  Although they had talked, complained together about how slowly the Committee was in moving, of how long it took to get them to make a decision in any area. To Rykhan’s way of thinking, the Quest Committee had too many politicians and not enough leaders within their ranks, each trying to secure their own place of power within the Gal-Trol Committee.

  Power struggles, Rykhan thought bitterly as he disentangled his feet from his pants before throwing them carelessly to join the shirt on the bed. Yes, there had even been power struggles in his branch of the Picari Protectorates. Not so much in the lower levels, but as he had discovered as he had been repeatedly promoted, the battle for position was a constant within the upper echelons.

  Rykhan counted himself lucky that part of his career was over.

  Grabbing his tresl, he dropped to the edge of the bed. Sliding his finger over the screen to access Earth’s internet, he wondered why the group he currently found himself in did not experience the same jockeying for position as it had in the corps. Perhaps it was because theirs was not a win-lose type of mission. In that respect, they would all win when they secured their mates, joined with them and returned with younglings.

  Rykhan’s finger stilled, hovering over the touch-screen.

  What would that feel like? To have a female, to build a home with her, make a family and then rear their younglings together?

  He had been almost four yons-old when both his mother and two older sisters had succumbed to the Xion gas but his recollections of the time before their deaths were hazy. He had a vague memory of watching his father and mother embrace but that was the only one he could call to mind as an example of them as a couple. Although he did remember, his parents had shared a bed. Would his mate allow him to sleep with her as well? It seemed like such a small thing but the thought of being so close and trusting someone, especially an alien stranger of the opposite gender, while he slept was unnerving!