7. Chapter Seven
4days, 17 hours, 20 minutes EST remaining Mari startled awake at the shriek followed by a thwack! She was alone in the hammock, faced toward the back of their tree hideaway. The parachute had been wrapped carefully around her, and a tunic was folded under her head, a tunic that smelled like Crey. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Mmm. She did love his scent—the crisp scent of Casa’s aquifers combined with a deeper scent that was all Crey.
“You are awake?” Crey asked quietly.
Mari turned.
Backlit by the rising sun, Crey pushed something into the ground and covered it with dirt.
“Is that the first one to burrow in?” she asked.
“No, but you are safe.”
Mari sat. Whoa. The ground of their entire tree fort was pockmarked. All around were holes filled with loose dirt. Holy hells. “How did I sleep through the nasty burrowing worm siege?”
Crey shrugged and pulled a cloth from his bag to wipe his hands. “They are not dark-cycle creatures. I only arose from the hammock a short time ago. If you are through with your sleep period, we should continue our journey.” Crey smiled—a long, wide smile, which looked odd on his face, but was also genuinely and totally real. It was, well, in Earthen terms, it was damned sweet for a smile. He tacked on, “Please,” before moving to rummage through their packs.
“What was the smile for?”
“You.” He still wore a shadow of that smile.
Mari brushed back her hair and wiped around her mouth. Nothing horrific. Her hair was matted on one side, but they had been tromping through a forest before camping inside a tree. Matted hair was a given. “It wasn’t because I look funny?”
“You always look funny.” He paused. “No, wait, I do not use that Earthen word often. You look fun. I believe the two are different.”
“Very different,” she said dryly. “Did you sleep at all?”
“I did for a short period of time. Indeed, I found the dark-cycle restful and enjoyable. Furthermore, I am now better prepared for what lies ahead. You were correct in your assessment.”
“Of course I was.” Mari disentangled from the parachute and swung her legs over the hammock’s side. “How many creatures will we have to kill outside our tree fort?”
Crey surveyed the area on the other side of the barrier. “Their dislike of each other was great, equal to their desire to devour us. Several carcasses remained from this animosity; however, the newly-risen creatures have dealt with their corpses. We will have to kill a minimal amount in order to leave.”
“How many is minimal?”
“Less than twenty, I believe.” Crey located bars for both of them and passed Mari her bag.
“Any plant life?”
“Several bushes have encroached during the dark-cycle. Whether they are curious or hungry remains to be seen.”
“On this planet, they’re always hungry.”
He smiled again. “We will conquer, bayantar.”
“What language was that?”
“It was Gaiian. Bayantar means ‘a sweet thing.’ I have decided that, since you smell and taste sweet, I will accept it as an endearment.”
Crey was calling her “sweet thing” now? To cover her blush, Mari practically stuck her head into her bag for a wipe to clean up. “I don’t know that I smell sweet today.”
“You do.” Crey stood. “Additionally, you smell of my scent. The combination is pleasing to me on a more primitive level. It is a type of claiming, an intimate attachment. I approve.”
Welp, that blush wasn’t going away anytime soon. Giving up on suppressing her embarrassment, Mari unfolded her wipe and cleaned as best she could. It might be nice for some privacy, but she’d literally have to kill for that.
Grabbing the tunic she’d been lying on, Crey shook the shirt out and set it on the hammock. He yanked off the tunic he’d been wearing. Wow. His chest was as glorious as she’d remembered.
“Where did you get the change of clothes?” She’d forgotten to pack him any.
“They were already in the bag. I considered the possibility that we would need to leave the ship swiftly. There is an inner pocket I utilized for clothing, a med kit, and a few other necessary items.” He was rubbing his chest with the wipe from his bag. Oh my stars. His glistening body is a thing of beauty.
“But no clothes for me?” Her voice was so croaky. It was dry too, as dry as if she’d swallowed all the salt on Casa.
“Clothing your size was solely in your quarters. However, having assessed your physical proportions, I knew my tunic would cover you adequately if you did not have clothing in your bag.” He pulled on the new tunic.
Yes, his shirt would cover everything and fit like a dress. It wouldn’t be high fashion, but she never aimed for that—not normally. But, these were abnormal times, and she wanted to dress sexy and fancy for Crey. That wasn’t going to happen on Predator Planet.
Getting off the hammock, Mari stood there, hesitating. “Do you mind turning away while I get changed?”
“Whatever you desire, Mari.” Crey moved to search his backpack again. “Tell me if you need anything killed for you.”
Mari cleaned and dressed in record time. She pulled on another all-purpose suit because it was practical. Mari did briefly consider the other dress she’d brought, but hadn’t unpacked. Wearing a dress today—well, that might get them killed. Probably not a good idea to be “dressed to kill.”
As Mari was putting on her boots, a scrabbling noise began near Crey. He had his machete out and sliced off the burrower’s head as it cleared the hole.
“I’m done,” she said. “I’ll fold up the parachute.”
“Let me finish this. Then, I will pack the trap-hammock.” He kicked the creature’s head into the hole and used his booted foot to cover it with dirt.
Fun.
This planet.
“Did you like sleeping in a hammock?” She shoved the parachute into her bag.
“It was interesting. I can see strategies where a hammock could be a wise place to rest for a Gaiian—not in the trees on this planet of course.”
“Mm, here, you’d only be moving their snack to a readymade nest.”
He nodded matter-of-factly. Crey folded the hammock and stashed it in his pack. He handed Mari a granola bar, giving her a significant look. “You have twenty-one of your bars remaining. I may be able to find edible water creatures in the two rivers we will cross this light-cycle.”
“Those granola bars should last me a while.” They were large and weren’t entirely made of sugar.
“They are for when you are overwhelmed, not to sustain you nutritionally.” His expression was chiding. How dare she be eating chocolate when she didn’t need it!
“Only you and possibly other Gaiians would consider our situation not overwhelming.”
He shook his head, pulling his pack on. “You do not fool me, bayantar. You were not overwhelmed by our previous adventures. You are Gaiian here.” He tapped his chest. “You are a warrior. A badass xenobotanist warrior.”
“Well, I can’t disagree with that.” She opened her granola bar. “If you find us edible water creatures, I’ll eat them and save my granola bars.” She’d make this great sacrifice to convince Crey she cared about her mental and physical health.
Crey killed and disposed of two more burrowing creatures one-handed while eating.
Mari closed her eyes for both. It was difficult to chew with the added visual, especially since Crey kicking a creature’s head sounded remarkably similar to her munching on granola.
After tucking away the empty wrapper, Mari located her tube of pills and a hydration pouch. As she did every morning, more or less, Mari shook one pill into her hand and swallowed it.
“What was that?” Crey asked, watching her intently.
“A life pill. We use life pills and organ upgrades to extend our lives to the length of other seed races. They slow our bodies’ natural deterioration.”
“Your body will now last as long as mine?” Crey’s question was much softer and more serious than his previous speech.
“It should. If Predator Planet doesn’t kill me. Earthens have been using these for so long that you probably didn’t realize two hundred Earthen years is a very long life span for us.”
“Two hundred years?” Crey glanced at his databand. His body relaxed as he found the Prime conversion. “It is not something I considered. You have enough pills?”
“Yes, about a month’s worth. But, I have taken them long enough that they’ve built up in my system. I can miss a dose occasionally.”
“You will always have enough pills,” he vowed.
She nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.
Crey nodded also. He held her gaze, and Mari couldn’t quite read what was there in his eyes. Something. Maybe something big. Finally, he shook himself and faced the front of the tree. “Ready?” Crey drew his longest blade.
Mari charged her blaster. In one hand, she had a blaster, and the other held a saber. She was so badass. “I’m ready.”
Crouching, Crey disabled the shield with one hand while stabbing forward with the other as soon as the shield dropped. The creature impaled on his sword became a battering ram, which knocked aside everything else waiting to pounce. Crey emerged fully and flung the impaled animal into the forest.
Whatever that was, it was her size and roary. That beast had not enjoyed being impaled, which was understandable, but, hey, that bastard had woken up and chosen violence first.
Mari switched the blaster to her dominant hand, and thumbed off the safety. Following Crey, she shot with one hand while hacking away at attacking plants with her saber. It took them several minutes to deal with the gathered predators.
This planet.
After they’d finished, Crey wiped his sword on hissing plants. “As I suspected, you did not need your special bar.”
“No. Why would that be overwhelming?” Mari swung a hand to indicate the battlefield they were leaving.
They’d waded through a morass of different creatures with only a thirst for violence in common. It was as if every species had sent a representative to attack them. These were the ambassadors of Predator Planet, and she and Crey had slaughtered them to survive this meet-and-greet.
“Sarcasm,” Crey noted.
Yep, she was essentially a continuing education class in sarcasm.
“That was more than twenty,” Crey admitted. “Regardless, your aim with a blaster is excellent, and your intimidation of plants by killing their compatriots is effective. Together, we have dealt with those gathered successfully.”
They had. Most plant life had “backed the hells off,” even before Mari had yelled that. Apparently, she couldn’t fight without yelling at her enemies. It was a thing.
They began walking side by side. “This time, you will talk?”
She grabbed his hand. “I will. But, you have to answer questions too. You need to quit dodging questions about your people because you like being secretive.”
“You will be Gaiian after you accept me—I have made certain of that. Moreover, I trust you. Ask your questions, bayantar.”
“If there are Gaiians on all the planets in the dark system, why is finding a mate so rare?” The longer she knew Crey, the more she wondered how he was still “single.”
Crey drew his blade and beheaded a creature that flung itself at them. “Gaiians out here on dark system planets frequently do not find mates, as they are not looking. They are content with their minds at war with all around them. If they do find a mate, they often leave the dark system and live in a trading port or on Gaiia.”
“Have your odds of finding a mate always been this low?”
“Not quite as low as they may be currently, but it has always been rare to find a mate. While interracial mating is not discouraged among Gaiians, these relationships forming are not common. Gaiians often isolate among our race, or we live in ports like Bogarta, where most who visit are not worthy to be our mates.”
“I would say you’re being arrogant, but having spent time in Bogarta, I wouldn’t expect to meet my mate there if I were Gaiian.”
“Indeed. Most are not drawn to an alley so they may fight alongside an intrepid Earthen with a warrior spirit.”
She was a mighty warrior on this planet. Mari slashed her saber through another fern. Those bastards were getting on her nerves. They were ferns. What did they think would happen if they attacked a giant bipedal? She drew her blaster and killed a scaly creature, which was probably venomous.
“Do you think once Gaiians go out into the universe again that they’ll find mates among other races?”
“Yes. I do. The Greater Beings intended for us to find balance. I am discovering how integral you are to that process, nefesim.” Crey bent and sliced an evil worm thing in half as it erupted from the ground.
“Gaiian?”
“Turkish. I have many memorized.”
“What did that one mean?” She hadn’t asked him about previous ones because Mari wanted to believe they meant romantic things, but he was a Gaiian and literal. Now that he was making weird things romantic, she was willing to take a chance.
Crey dropped his head. Was he blushing? His cheeks were slightly orange. “My breath,” he murmured finally.
Mari bit her lips to suppress her smile. “That isn’t entirely accurate.” Much like the one she’d recognized before as “heart.”
“You are my balance, and as necessary as breathing.” His clasp on her hand tightened briefly. Abruptly, he released her hand to grip his sword as he jabbed the blade upward to impale a flying snake.
This planet! That’d been a special moment, and Lyatan had insisted on interrupting. Bastard planet filled with evil creatures and mean vegetation.
Crey flung the dead monster into nearby bushes, which chomped enthusiastically on the carcass. He wiped his sword on hissing angry grass and sheathed it. With a tender look, Crey took her hand again.
Mari sighed happily.
His intended swung their hands between them. It was “sweet.”
“Do you think this many critters die on Predator Planet normally, or are we decimating the population by coming here and not allowing them to kill us?”
“It does not seem like we are making a difference,” he said. Her concern was endearing.
“You’re right about that.”
“Additionally, it is an entire planet, and we are only on a small section of Lyatan.”
She glanced behind them. “We’re leaving a bloody trail of carnage in our wake.”
“You say this as if it was not our intention.” He enjoyed leaving a path of carnage.
They heard it at the same time and stopped.
“That sounds like…,” Mari said.
“A ship. A Thalarin ship.”
Mari looked around anxiously. “We have to hide.”
Crey had never hidden from anything in his life. Nevertheless, he seized his Earthen’s hand and ran toward a grove of trees. “Power down your databand.” He immediately used his implant to shut his down.
“Why?”
“It will read as hot on their sensors, and they can find us using our bands.”
As they neared the trees, Mari pulled back. “Not those! The one with the red-tipped leaves will kill us if we get too close.” Mari pointed. “There. That tree is safe.” She dragged him toward it.
“There is no ground cover around it.” The tree was only safe in that it would not participate in killing them.
“It’ll do. We’re climbing this tree to hide in the branches. We’ll kill everything that flies, climbs, or slithers to greet us.” They reached the tree, and she looked up. “At least it’s easy to climb.”
Before Mari could jump for the first branch, Crey grabbed her waist and lifted her.
The thrusters’ vibrations against the ground grew stronger.
“Hurry.” Following her, Crey stayed close enough to catch her if she fell. He could not lose her. Not now. Not ever.
They climbed quickly. His fearless mate was very agile and adept at climbing. Despite their circumstances, he enjoyed watching her ascent.
“This is probably high enough.” Mari had climbed to a forked section of the trunk where she could sit. “Any higher and the branches get thin.”
Crey stopped to stand on a lower branch where he had greater range of motion, but could wrap his arms around Mari and protect her. “This is adequate for our needs. Do you have any other devices powered by Navarian energy?”
“I don’t. That’s what they’re looking for?”
“Yes, it has a unique energy signature, which the Thalarins exploit. Our ships block their scanners. However, out in the open…” He shrugged. “It is also something not found in nature, so they rely on those scanners.”
“I suppose there must be a downside to only charging your band every few years.”
Crey pulled two coiled wires from his bag. “Put this on. It is unlikely they will scan for heat with so many living organisms around, but this will diffuse your heat.” He put it around his neck.
After watching him, Mari put the band on. The muted brown metal of the wires looked good against her skin. “How long do you think we’ll have to be up here?”
“I am not certain.”
The ship was close, hovering over the planet’s surface and skimming along the trees.
“Maybe they’re following the trail of dead animals.”
“It is doubtful the carcasses remain for them to follow.” This planet reclaimed its dead rapidly.
“I’m both happy and disgusted by that news. I’m all for the circle of life, but Predator Planet has a faster cycle than I’d like.” Tipping her head back, Mari rested against the tree’s trunk. “How long until we reach the secret base?”
“I was estimating two or three light-cycles. It may be longer if we are evading ships.”
Mari closed her eyes.
“Are you unwell?” He put an arm loosely around her waist.
Opening her eyes, her gaze dropped to his arm holding her. “Yes. I’m just…” She put her arm overtop his. “I’m overwhelmed, I guess.”
“Do you require a granola bar?”
Mari laughed in a short, weary way. “No, just talk. If we talk, I can forget I’m hiding from an enemy ship.”
“I do not like the hiding part,” Crey admitted.
“I figured you wouldn’t, but that you’d do it for me, instead of taking on a Thalarin ship with explosive spurs.”
Mari was correct. Crey had done it for her, and he would make the same choice if placed in this situation again.
The ship drew closer. The wind generated by the thrusters rustled the leaves around them. That sifct, dark-cursed plague of a race—if only he had a ship.
“Distract me.” There was a shivery sound to her words. She was nervous. He wished he could take that from her. “Talk to me.”
“What is our topic?”
“Anything. Tell me about your religion.”
“Religion? I have no religion, Mari.” Earthens and other races had faith-based myths recognized as “religion.” Gaiians were too logical for fables defining their moral beliefs.
Turning her head, she wrinkled her nose while squinting. “Well, your belief in Greater Beings…is that not a religion?”
“It is not,” Crey said firmly. “It is the truth. Your people also believe in them.”
“Uh, some Earthens believe in religion or they have an ideology similar to religion, but we don’t all believe in the same deities.” She tilted her head. “Though, we do all believe in hell…or hells, rather. Heaven is widely-accepted to be a fanciful imaginary place, but we’ve latched onto the concept of hells tightly.” Mari shook her head once. “Earthens.”
They were a curious race in many ways. “You have referred to seed races—they are colonists created by our Greater Beings.”
Mari stared. “Wait, your Greater Beings are the highly-evolved race that seeded all the different planets in the universe?” The passing ship blew strands of her hair across Mari’s face. She swiped them from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear.
“Yes. After they had terraformed many planets and adjusted them to a fixed gravity, the Greater Beings settled colonists on the habitable planets in the universe which did not have a highly sentient species already living there. Using their technology, they adapted the colonists to their environments. Among the hundreds of colonies the Greater Beings created, only Earthens forgot their origins by crafting different languages and blurring their shared history. They invented myths to explain what memories remained.”
“Gaiians remembered these Greater Beings?”
“Gaiians were difficult to leave alone. Our planet was rugged before we worked the land and tamed the seas with our walls. It needed exceptionally unique colonists.”
Despite the danger of the nearby ship, and Crey frequently drawing a blade to kill predators, Mari relaxed. Her trust in him encouraged him to continue talking. She needed conversation for her happiness—he knew that now.
“The Greater Beings made warriors out of our race,” Crey said. “They adapted us to rage and fight, and we did. That is all the first colonists on Gaiia did. The Greater Beings returned and recognized we would soon become extinct if there was no softening for mating. The Greater Beings revised the colonists’ molecules to include the mate bond, a strong connection to another being, compatible in both body and spirit, which we would recognize after even a brief meeting. It would change us, so we would protect those we bond with.”
“After that, your people never saw them again?”
Crey shook his head. “No, they returned to check on my people and discovered we had pushed those mated into their own walled colonies, as if they carried a sickness. The warriors outside those colonies refused all interaction with them. The unmated Gaiians avoided others as they did not wish to be soft from this mate bond.”
Mari’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s pretty damn short-sighted. That’s basically embracing extinction.”
“The Greater Beings said as much. They once again modified our molecules, so that our minds were cleared by the mate bond. Cleared minds were more astute and inventive, and that was prized among all our people. Mated Gaiians would also have exceptional memories, which allowed for more extensive planning. The Greater Beings tore down the walls to the colonies and established a government among the mated. Their cleared minds allowed them to rule all of Gaiia. That was how the All Ruler role was created. Many prominent first children come from the lineage of the walled colonists, especially those with prescience in their clans.”
“You never saw the Greater Beings after that?”
The ship was passing—the sound of thrusters growing distant. It probably was not yet safe to continue their journey.
“We did see them,” he continued. “As I said, we were difficult to leave alone.”
“I have found that to be so.” Mari stroked his arm.
He liked her touch, despite how distracting the pleasant sensation was. His distraction was so great that it was Mari who drew her blaster and fired upon a winged snake.
“Why did the Greater Beings return the next time?” Mari asked.
“They returned because our cunning race quickly mastered space flight. Earthens were still trying to create rudimentary land vehicles.”
Mari pinched his arm.
“You asked me to tell of our factual records. This is what is true.”
“Uh huh. Why didn’t they want you flying around?”
“We would quickly conquer other planets of warriors before they also built ships. We were vastly superior in strength and our technology was ingeniously crafted, so our success was ensured.”
“Humble too.”
Crey shook his head. “We have no reason to be humble.” They were not superior in everything, but they were adequate in all ways and advanced in many areas. Humility would be a form of deception, implying this was not so.
“I was being sarcastic, but go on.”
“The Greater Beings returned, smashed our ships, and modified our molecules again. Our intelligence after being bonded remained immense; however, it was closer to those of other planets, such as Earthens. Many lines retained a developed prescience, like my mother, due to our higher intelligence. Additionally, I do not know of any other bipedals where so many can commit to memory a significant percentage of what they read. The Greater Beings also reduced our calculating tendencies which aggression turned toward dark paths. This was, certainly, a disappointment. Still, it was much like a parent raising a child—if they have done wrong, you smash their belongings until they learn.”
She gasped. “Crey, you will not be smashing our kids’ things if they don’t behave.”
“This is what you do. The Greater Beings knew the best method for teaching. This was our example, and it worked.”
Mari scowled. She swung her saber and killed a fanged flying creature with it, without taking her gaze from Crey’s. “I don’t think you learned the right lesson from that.”
“We did not build ships again until much later when we were responsible—and after Tarcekians had stopped by and were encouraged to help us.”
“Encouraged?”
“It creates balance through reciprocity to help us when we insist.” Whatever Gaiians of that time had traded the Tarcekians for their technology, both races had benefited. It was the Gaiian way.
“Hm. Was that the final time the Greater Beings stopped by?”
“No. They returned to smash our warships. We had created vast, technologically-advanced ships to battle with other races who annoyed us. We were told this was not the way it was meant to be, and that they, in their wisdom, had created other colonies, which they did not wish destroyed.”
“Imagine that.”
“I should clarify that Old Earth was too distant and of no interest to us. Furthermore, we did not have ships with warp drives.” Even now, his people only had a few larger ships with warp drives. These carriers orbited Gaiia and were used for fast reprisals or to augment colony Hunters if a large-scale attack occurred. If the Thalarin ships currently in the dark system had attacked Casa, Gaiia would have sent multiple carriers to aid in rebuffing them. If his people rebuilt their warships for this bold attack, they would have warp drives now.
“Where were Earthens in our evolution during this time?”
“You had discovered how to kill each other in massive wars. The Greater Beings might have come and smashed your weapons if you had not grown so divisive amongst yourselves that travel and other technology advanced slowly. You were killing each other, yet your population was still growing.”
“We were self-limiting in many ways. Back to your story—”
“Factual records,” he corrected. Stories were exaggerations or fiction. This was the truth.
“Back to your factual records then. So, the Greater Beings came and scolded you and told you to stop trying to conquer other planets?”
“Several times. They also smashed our ships. It was effective.”
“You’re still not smashing our kids’ things.” To have her speaking of their future children was a relief after the previous rotation.
“One moment.” Crey turned and split a giant hairy creature in half as it dropped toward them.
The carcass crashed through the branches on its way down before landing with a squelching sound as its insides sprayed all around the base of the tree.
“That was one juicy…whatever it was,” Mari said as she looked below. “I vote that we don’t descend until more creatures have made it a meal. Earthens grow these large food crops called pumpkins. It’s like you dropped a pumpkin the size of a speeder from a tower. That was quite the splat.”
“I am not easily disgusted, but that is remarkably unpleasant,” Crey admitted. “I hope we are not forced to splat another.”
“Cool, look, little evil monsters have arrived to eat the splatted pumpkin monster. Yay,” Mari said, with faked enthusiasm. She returned her attention to their discussion. “Is that where your factual records of them end?”
“No, the Greater Beings are not infallible in their judgment of who deserves to have their ships smashed. While Gaiians are an aggressive and unyielding race, we do not obscure what we are. The many modifications to our molecules have ensured that what you see with a Gaiian is what they are. It is why our ships were smashed so frequently. When the Greater Beings inquired about the purpose of our advanced weaponry, we told them. When they visited other colonies, those races concealed what they were and their intentions.” He looked in the direction of the retreating ship.
“You’re speaking of the Thalarins?”
“Yes. We had recently had our warships smashed again when the Thalarins began to conquer other planets.” He released a disgusted breath. The Thalarins’ history was bloody and barbaric. “They reveled in destroying life. They enjoyed the sight of blood running across a planet’s soil. They did not need the planet or its people, but the devastation they wrought was a source of pride. Thalarins measured their accomplishments in populations annihilated and by barren wastelands they had created.”
Mari leaned into him, rubbing her forehead against his chin, as if she needed the connection. “There was no one to stop them?”
“No one nearby was willing to do what was necessary—to destroy as they were doing. Also, the smashing of our ships emboldened them. Then, the Thalarins attacked the planet Mevsensa. The colony on the planet was a peaceful race the Greater Beings favored highly. This was the Thalarins’ purpose in attacking Mevsensa; they wanted the technology of the Greater Beings. The Thalarins knew slaughtering their favorite creations would draw their attention.” He dropped his chin to meet her gaze. “We would not have conquered such a planet.”
“I believe you.” Mari patted his arm.
“There is no fulfillment in battling a foe with no desire to fight. Their race provided no challenge and, therefore, was of no interest to Gaiians.”
Mari tilted her head. “Once again, not quite the takeaway I’d expect, but go on with your factual record.”
“The Greater Beings spent all their energy protecting their favorite colony. They failed. Thalarins destroyed every member of that race, even the children. The Greater Beings returned to Gaiia, dispirited and drained. They vowed to let the colonies advance as they wished. They set us on the Thalarins. We waged a glorious battle. We reclaimed colonies for their native races and forced the Thalarins back to their own planet, where we smashed their ships. We smashed all their ships—down to the land vehicles.”
The Thalarins were due to have another great smashing. The previous one was a glorious factual record, which was often retold among their people. During that conflict, the Gaiians were similar to Greater Beings; though, to say so was an insult to the intelligence which had created the Gaiian race and carved them into the fierce and ferocious warriors they were, one molecule at a time.
The colony of Mevsensa may have been the Greater Beings’ favorite, but Gaiians had been the ones they corrected to prevent them from becoming extinct. Gaiians were the race they had given the most attention.
“But, you didn’t conquer the same colonies the Thalarins had?”
Crey frowned. “Certainly not. Governing peaceful planets is of no interest to us. It expends much-needed resources and energy. We were simply hunting our natural prey and opposition, another highly-advanced warrior race.”
“What happened to the Greater Beings? Our race believes they’re extinct.”
“Most races believe that.” It was a story Gaiians may have initiated. Gaiians did not lie; they drew attention to their absence among races who preferred stories above facts. The story evolved and spread around in quiet whispers until it was believed. Earthens were particularly susceptible to whispers.
“They’re not?”
“No.”
“Where are they?”
Crey shrugged. “Only the All Father and his mate know, and they protect that knowledge with their lives. I believe they live on Gaiia. If you wish to live untroubled, you do not live on a peaceful planet, which implores with its very existence to be conquered. You sequester on a planet of warriors, who would rather die than yield what is theirs.”
When he and Mari ceased traveling the universe, they might settle on Gaiia, where his intended would be easier to protect.
“But, if they’re not your gods and goddesses, why do you say they’ve blessed our bond or union? You act like they’re currently affecting your life.”
“My attraction to you is part of the bonding process built into my molecules. They have blessed us by encoding this recognition into my body. I would be ungrateful not to recognize the favor they showed my ancestors all those orbits ago. I have you in my life—I have never been more indebted to them.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks turned his favorite color. “And, all this is considered factual by your race?”
“It is entirely fact.” Crey glanced below them. “I believe it is safe to descend. We will not step in excessive amounts of entrails.”
“I think that—” Mari gasped while looking over his shoulder. Her eyes widened.
Crey drew his sword and swung it in an arc behind him, beheading a giant creature as it leapt from a nearby tree. Both the head and body crashed through the branches and created another Earthen pumpkin splat. The sludgy pool made of blood and entrails was greater than the shadow cast by the tree. Mari was correct in the summation of “juicy.”
“Ugh.” His intended took slow breaths while staring straight ahead. “Tell me another factual record story because we’ve got some time.”