If you seek to further serve your Warlord, don’t hide your differences.
Khan’s words filled Nayan’s thoughts many planet rotations later as she waited in the shadows with Qulpa, Hitch, Tubby, and a collection of bots and drones. Their Warlord needed her bravery.
The boy they watched needed it more.
He crouched in a battle stance, his dirty bare feet planted on the stone pathway, his spindly arms held defensively in front of him. His face, chest, arms, were marred with more scars than a child with his number of solar cycles should sport. The terror in his eyes pulled at her heart.
Other Chamele orphans, all male, all perfect, gathered around him. Some looked at the boy with disgust and hatred. Those expressions she remembered.
But some of the orphans gazed at him with sympathy, with sadness, with a fear he shared, as though they worried they’d be next. That was new, yet she wagered it wasn’t. When she had been in the boy’s place, she’d merely been focused on the bullies, hadn’t seen her possible allies.
“Freak.” One such bully flung that word at the boy like a weapon, his eyes gleaming with malice. “You’re a freak.”
“I hate that word,” Qulpa muttered.
He’d have to get accustomed to it. She planned to use it…often.
“I’m not a freak.” The targeted boy, Rinchinbal, balled his fingers into tighter fists, concentrated harder on his hands, trying to extend the claws he didn’t have.
The fully grown Chamele females supervising on the perimeters did and said nothing. They had been instructed to protect the boy, had clearly interpreted that command to be restricted to physical attacks only.
Nayan understood verbal assaults could be as harmful as claws raking over exposed skin. Anger swelled within her. She squeezed Qulpa’s hand, relaying her feelings to him silently, through touch.
There were barriers between them. Her fingers were covered with leather.
In preparation for this meeting, she’d modified her hand coverings, altering them to conceal all exposed skin. It was painful for a bonded female to touch an unrelated male, even a boy like Rinchinbal.
Qulpa hooked his right arm around her waist and drew her closer to him. His touch, his body heat, soothed her.
She wasn’t a frightened little girl anymore. She was the Head of Ship and Weapons Design. And she had him, a big, strong warrior, Second’s main pilot, as her backup.
Hitch chirped and rubbed his cool metal case against her neck. Her lips twitched. She also had her mechanical family with her.
“You’re no Chamele.” The bully continued to torture Rinchinbal. “Where are your claws?”
“I’ll make them work.” Rinchinbal yelled that back at his tormenter. The boy had spirit.
“You can’t even blend into your background.” The bigger boy sneered. Some of the others sniggered.
“I can.” The boy screwed up his little face. “I will.”
She glanced upward at Qulpa. “I’ve seen enough.”
“I have also.” He dipped his head. “You know what the boy is going through. I’ll follow your lead.”
Her dominant barbarian would follow her. Her chest heated. She loved him so blasted much.
“You’re a freak.” The bully used that hated word once more. “That’s all you’ll ever be. Do our Warlord a favor and die.”
Both Rinchinbal and Nayan flinched at that harshness.
“I’m not a freak.” The little boy shook with unhappiness.
“That’s a shame.” Nayan extended her manufactured claws and stepped out of the shadows. Qulpa and their mechanical army followed her.
Heads turned. Eyes widened. Jaws dropped.
The bully backed away from her. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
She was aware of the image they must be seeing. Her body was encased in tight black leather. Her claws were long and sharp and glowing. Her big barbarian stood beside her, bare chested with his muscles flexed and his natural weapons on display. Drones hovered above them. Bots were positioned around their booted feet, their lights shining.
“My Warlord is looking for someone like me.” She met the little boy’s gaze. “A fellow freak. An enemy is threatening the safety of all Chameles.” Tolui and his band of renegades had abducted more females and children, had shot down several ships. They had to be apprehended. “We require assistance.”
“And who are you?” One of the grown females scowled at her.
“I’m the Head of Ship and Weapons Design for Khan, the Warlord of Chamele 2.” Nayan spread her claws. “The warrior by my side is his Second’s main pilot. Murad, your Warlord, has given us permission to approach any freaks on his planet.”
Hitch chirped, introducing himself also. The other bots and drones added their roles, speaking a language she doubted anyone other than Qulpa and herself could understand.
The older Chamele female gulped air. “M-m-my apologies. I d-d-didn’t know.”
“Few Chameles realize how strong our differences make us.” Qulpa’s face was like stone. “It was Head of Ship and Weapons Design’s differences that prompted her to create the guns, bots, warships and other inventions that helped us win the Succession Wars.”
“It’s Second’s main pilot’s differences that allowed him to become the best pilot in the sector, perhaps in the universe.” Nayan said that with pride.
“He’s not different.” The boy, Rinchinbal, frowned. “He has claws.”
Qulpa retracted his claws. “Three of my fingers are mechanical.” He waved them.
“I don’t have natural claws.” Nayan admitted to that deficiency. “I only have these.” She held her mechanical claws up for the boys to see. “And I can’t naturally blend into the background. I can only do this.” She activated her suit, disappearing completely.
Her audience gasped.
Rinchinbal stared at where she’d once was. “You’re like me.” He whispered that fact as though he didn’t trust himself to say it louder.
She reappeared, retracting her claws. “I need someone like me to assist me. The mission isn’t easy. It requires hard work.”
“I can work hard.” The little boy stood straighter. “I can work really, really hard.”
“Not as hard as I can.” Another boy called out.
“I’m the hardest worker.”
They all wanted the opportunity and she wished she could choose every one of them. She looked at Qulpa.
He sighed. “We’ll install a flight simulator here.” He placed one of his hands on the small of her back, where it belonged. “They can train to be pilots.”
She beamed at him. “They’d like that.”
He was such a good male. And he was hers.
She patted his upper thighs and returned her attention to the boys. “This first opportunity is for freaks only. There will be other opportunities for hardworking, honorable boys.”
That excited them. The boys bumped shoulders and elbowed stomachs, speculating what those opportunities would be.
“I’m the only freak here.” Rinchinbal took a step toward her. “Do you truly want me? Because my father and mother…”
They didn’t want him. She understood. Her parents hadn’t wanted her either. But she’d found love and belonging with her warrior.
The boy would find love and belonging with them. “We had the choice of millions of boys. We chose you.”
“You chose me,” he whispered.
“You said you’re a hard worker.” She kept her expression stern. The boy wouldn’t appreciate sympathy. “Show me how strong you are. Hug me as tightly as you can.”
He hesitated for a moment, his hunger for touch battling his mistrust of all beings, that war reflected in the boy’s big brown eyes.
“That was an order, warrior.” Qulpa barked.
The boy flew forward, wrapped his arms around Nayan’s waist and squeezed.
He was embracing her. Her chest warmed. She squeezed him back. “Harder.”
He complied, snuggling closer to her, smelling like sunshine and warm, rich soil, and boy. Qulpa reached around her and Rinchinbal, and the three of them hugged and hugged and hugged.
They were a family. The boy merely didn’t know that yet.
Tears pricked Nayan’s eyes. She blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t earn her any strength points from Rinchinbal and the other boys.
Seeking a distraction, she nudged Hitch. The little bot jumped onto the boy’s shoulder and nuzzled against his dirty cheek, cooing and chirping.
“What is that?” Rinchinbal drew back from her and blinked at the bot, his eyes wide with wonder.
“Who is it?” Nayan corrected him. “Rinchinbal, meet Hitch, one of the bravest bots ever created.”
Hitch, perched on the boy’s shoulder, twirled, his lights flashing, his forelegs raised as though he was accepting the accolades of millions of admirers.
Something smacked against her right foot. She looked down and smiled. “And this is Tubby. He’s in charge of defenses in our laboratory. If you ever need anything, he can find it for you.”
She introduced each bot and drone, relaying the importance of each of them. Rinchinbal kneeled, lowering himself to their height. They buzzed around him, showing off, telling him stories she doubted he could translate.
The other boys drew closer and closer. All except the bully. She didn’t know where he had gone. Rinchinbal’s tormenter had disappeared, much as Saruk had vanished in her dream.
“That’s a little bot.” One small boy made the observation, looking at Hitch with longing. “Does he tickle?”
“A little bit.” Rinchinbal laughed. “His name is Hitch. Do you want to touch him?”
And just like that the outcast became the center of attention. The boys played with the bots and drones. Nayan’s mechanical family chirped and cooed with happiness, enjoying the attention.
“You lied to me, gerel.” Qulpa tucked her against his side.
She rested her cheek against her barbarian’s chest, watching the boys. “I haven’t lied to you in a while.” She trusted him with her secrets, her truth.
“You told me you’d never have children.” His eyes glowed. “We now have a son.” He paused. “At least one, maybe more.”
They had a son. She tilted her head upward, trying not to cry.
Her warrior brushed his lips over hers. She opened to him. He nibbled and sucked and teased. Passion banished the poignancy of the moment.
She wanted him now, forever, always, loved him more than words could express.
“I am never going to kiss a female.” One of the boys announced that amusingly erroneous belief. Loudly. “I’d rather eat a rock vulture’s eyeball.”
“Never is a long time, warrior.” Qulpa chuckled, his body shaking against hers. “And I’ve eaten a rock vulture’s eyeball. It tastes worse than you imagine.”
That feat, instead of disgusting their audience, seemed to enthrall them. The boys gazed at her barbarian as though he had hung the sun.
“Tubby.” He snagged the bot’s attention. “Did you bring any rock vulture eyeballs for our new friends?”
The rotund bot shook his head, chirping that he regretfully hadn’t brought any rock vulture eyeballs with him, didn’t realize that had been required.
“Qulpa was teasing you, Tubby.” Nayan consoled her eager-to-please creation. “No one wants rock vulture eyeballs.” She didn’t want him to pack those for the next visit. “Show the boys what you did bring for them.”
Tubby opened himself up, revealing a container filled with sweets.
The boys cheered and her bot sang with joy, their responses making both Nayan and her barbarian smile.
* * *
Three planet rotations later, Qulpa was flying them back to Chamele 2. Rinchinbal slept in one of the chairs on the bridge. His mouth was wide open and Hitch peered inside it, chirping his observations to Tubby, who was positioned by the boy’s booted feet.
The noise didn’t wake Nayan’s new son. Rinchinbal could snooze through the loudest racket, she’d discovered. He had likely gained that ability from sharing a sleeping chamber with other rowdy boys.
She sat on her warrior’s lap. His arms were around her. His hands rested on the private viewscreen embedded in the console. His lips curved upward.
“You’re happy.” She made that observation.
“I have a beautiful brave gerel, an equally courageous boy.” He didn’t call Rinchinbal his son. Not while they were in his presence.
It was much too early for the boy to hear that word. But she knew what he meant, heard that level of pride, of caring, in Qulpa’s voice.
“And I’m flying a ship designed by one of the most brilliant minds in the universe.” Her barbarian kissed the top of her head.
That brilliant mind was hers. She had designed the ship.
“There’s not a warrior alive who is happier than I am right now.” Gold specks glittered in his dark eyes. “I—” He abruptly stopped talking.
“What is it?” She straightened, her heart pounding in her chest.
“There’s an incoming transmission.” He tapped on his private viewscreen.
Khan’s scarred face appeared on the main viewscreen. “Second’s main pilot. Head Of Ship And Weapons Design.” He addressed them.
“My lord.” They responded in unison.
Qulpa reported directly to Second. Yet he wasn’t on the transmission. The situation must be urgent if their Warlord was skipping the chain of command.
“When you arrive on Chamele 2, prepare the warship for immediate take-off.” Khan gave her barbarian that instruction. “Plan for any possibility. I’ll relay the destination when I enter the vessel.”
“Understood, my lord.” Qulpa’s muscles flexed, her male bracing for danger.
“Tell no one.” That order reinforced the peril of the mission.
The transmission ended. The image on the main viewscreen reverted to one of space, stars twinkling on a backdrop of black.
Nayan looked upward at Qulpa. Her warrior’s lips were pressed into a grim white line. His forehead was furrowed.
“I’ll care for the boy.” She told him. “We’ll remain in the laboratory. We’ll be safe.” She didn’t want him to become distracted, worrying about them. “Focus on your mission.”
“It’s challenging to focus on something I know nothing about.” He tapped his private viewscreen.
“You must be hunting Tolui.” That was her guess. The rogue Chamele was the only threat they were aware existed. “That might not be dangerous.” She said that for him and for herself, needing that reassurance. “He had the opportunity to kill me and didn’t.”
“We don’t know he was the warrior you met.” Qulpa hadn’t been happy when she had told him about that encounter.
She wagered the warrior had been Tolui. There was something about the male that reminded her of Khan. It was likely the air of command the two males shared. “When he downs ships, he doesn’t destroy them.” Both of them had survived their crashes.
“But beings still die.” The last crash had ended three lifespans.
“They wouldn’t die if I designed better ships.” She took responsibility for those deaths.
He turned her to face him. “You design the best ships.” His lips brushed over hers. “The blame belongs to Tolui.”
She couldn’t control the actions of others. Her duty was to minimize the impact of any crash.
And to safeguard her warrior. “I won’t be there to protect you.” She pressed her face against his bare right pec. “You will be careful?”
“I will be extremely careful.” He hugged her close to him. “I have so much to live for.”
He had her and he had the boy they both already thought of as their son. Her chest warmed.
“You’re the best pilot in the sector.” Others had challenged him and been defeated.
“I hold that honor because of you.” He kissed her forehead. “The mechanical fingers you crafted for me and your belief in me have made me a better pilot.”
She’d make him a better warrior also. “I’m sending you with some of my best weapons.”
“I will be protecting our Warlord.” Her barbarian misinterpreted the reason. “I should carry our best weapons.”
“You will protect yourself first.” Her first priority was his safety, not Khan’s. “If anything bad happens to you...” Her voice broke.
She wouldn’t survive it.
“Nothing bad will happen to me.” He reassured her. “Our Warlord contacted me because he needs a pilot, not a warrior. The ship you designed for us is fast and heavily armed and hosts the most advanced safety features.”
She was pleased with the way the new ship was flying. “It should protect you.”
Especially since she was convinced Tolui didn’t want to kill anyone.
She relaxed. Her barbarian would be safe. He’d return to her, to his son, to his family. They would live a long, happy life together.
“I love you, warrior.” She brushed her lips against his square chin.
“I love you, gerel.” Qulpa lowered his head and kissed her so hard and so passionately all of her lingering worries evaporated.
Then he flew them home.
# # #
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