The dragons put some distance between themselves and the great Tree, and as they hit a comfortable altitude and pace Jovian sinks his mental fingers into the modeling clay of Shadow.
The dragons fly, a magnificent sight, and those at the tree who watch them for a time see them fly into shadow, departing from Ygg and starting the long haul from the start of sanity to the center of everything.
They pass through strange shadows and fly under many skies, now over sea, now over land. [Maranth is glad they do not fly over tapioca]. The dragons work hard, and if any of them were not battle-hardened, they become used to bizarre sights and long days of straight flight. The shadows lie about the passage of time, with only the nightly rest stops being moments of clarity. The dragons fly high, and Jovian suspects that in some places will figure in the myths or tall tales of the shadow for a generation. There is one sequence of shadows where they frequently pass other flyers, both animal and mechanical, but none disturb the flight.
A river, then. Under balmy air a silvery-green thread across the distance, coming closer and growing into a gently curving watercourse, broad and slow in its currents. The wings follow its track as it narrows, valley closing in on it, yellow-brown scrub growing thicker, acquiring bits of green that spread to a patchy cover and then to a lush carpet below. The river speeds up in its course, acquires curves and kinks and rapids here and there, the froth of white water a mottling of texture from the dragons' height.
Trees march their way down from the rather less distant hills, closing the valley a bit further around the river that guides the flight. Old growth forests, deciduous and in full foliage, rich in their subtle varying greens...and there, there too and one way over there, a patch of deep crimson. The greenish hue of the river has deepened, as has the river itself, dark blue with its silvery sunlit sheen. And after a time the valley widens out again, the river coming down out of hills to a floodplain and to a delta in the distance.
The wings sweep down, racing into the wind, the dragons taking joy in the freshening seaward breeze - and a dot in the distance becomes a boat, a large one, its great red paddlewheel sparking in the sun as it churns. Whups.
Jovian guides Canareth in a banking turn, putting his tail to the river and letting the crosswind pick up force - until the wind's dull roar washes away the sound of the riverboat entirely. When the wings wheel back toward the coast, the boat is gone - but at the cost of some proper color in the land below, which has lost the quay that was the riverboat's destination but gained an odd reddish cast to the greenery of the landscape.
Over the fertile delta with its rich black soil and to the sea, out and over low rolling waves. Beneath the rich cobalt surface schools of fish are just barely visible...then dolphins leaping in higher waves as the air cools, the coast a thin dull line in the distance. Then they too are gone, the water darker, deeper, a high deck of clouds rolling in to blanket the sky in uneven grey. Far below - farther now as the wings have gained altitude, leaving thermals behind - a dark, long-finned leviathan, nearly the length of some of the blue dragons, breaches the surface, showing the long parallel lines of its underside to the beasts in flight above.
Back toward shore then, racing with a tailwind. Dark cliffs heave into view as a light rain falls. Birds dart in and out of crags in the cliff face, raptors ranging for small fish. The rain lets up again as the wings sail over the rocky crest, wind and sun melting crystal blue holes in the cloud cover until it yields in a ragged line that approaches and is gone again. The foliage below is a healthier green again, the sky worlds closer to home with its yellow sun sailing through rich cerulean....
It is after a sen'night of this that Jovian finds that the day ends at a place that matches his desire: a shadow with a temperate clime and a river pouring out into a glassy sea from a dense forest.
Jovian paused in shifting to reflect, and became aware of how many hours' straight flight he had led the wings through since they last rested.
//So we will land soon?,// Canareth intruded on his rider's thoughts. //The greens are fatigued, and not all the riders are as strong as you are.//
//I wish you'd said something earlier,// Jovian thought back guiltily. //I could have let it become evening a while back, but I wanted to get as far as we could today.//
//No one is too tired to fly, but it is hard to know how far we have gone if the sun isn't moving. You will take care of us.//
//Love you too, ya big lug. Let's find someplace good to set down.//
Jovian guided Canareth and the wings following them into a broad turn, to fly along the line of the cliffs off to their right. Rock faces and steep hills gamboled toward sea level, all tree-covered, and as they came down, the clear sky grew warmer again. Before long the land reached out to a strand of silvery beach, temperate waves rolling ashore with a gentleness that bespoke a breakwater not far off. And, indeed, the sun was now a good three hands lower in the sky, the rich golden of late afternoon.
//Land on the beach, Canareth. You've all earned a swim and a rubdown.//
The dragons, as they are landing on the still-warm sands, tell you all that there are islands off the coast and they are inhabited.
Not good...definitely not good.
Jovian squints into the distance across the water, just barely making out the grey masses of land breaking the indistinct textures of the water's surface. He curses, quietly but virulently.
"Have we drawn their attention?" he asks aloud, both of Canareth and of the other riders. "If we haven't, I want to keep it that way - no commotion, and nobody takes off until we're all ready to go."
//There are no ships between us and their town, and none come this way. We want to swim.//
"Go ahead. Swimming is all right, just take it easy - have a care about how sound carries."
//Maranth complains about having to walk home.// Canareth tells you, but none of the dragons disobey. The dragons swim in the deep water, playfully.
After some time, Kourin, who has also been enjoying the sunset and the rest says "Hoshith wants to know if we are spending the night here, and if we are hunting first. She says that no one is very hungry, but the beach is warm and inviting."
The same adjectives might describe Jovian's smile as he regards Kourin, getting momentarily distracted by how the waning golden light plays in her face and hair...but he comes back to himself quickly. "I like the idea of staying here too. But I only want us to take off once - I don't want to raise an alarm among the islanders. If we hunt, we'll have to find another spot for the night - though I think it won't take outrageously long to find another beach, if you like." He flashes her a thousand-watt grin, and feels it for the first time in what seems like ages.
"Hoshith says Maranth is eating fish..." she smiles back. "What do you want?" she asks, as if it were the only important question in the world.
Jovian considers the question with some care, more than a simple logistical decision would call for. "I want," he says at last, meeting Kourin's eyes again, "to stand down for a while." He seems to mean something more than resting there for the night, although he could certainly mean that too. His gaze, warm, unswerving but still somehow tentative, is deeply resonant of other things that he wants but is uncertain he should say.
"We've stood our watch, and more. No other pass has ended with a battle on the edge of existence. We've earned it, you've earned it." She leans towards him, closing her eyes, and pulls back in startlement as a large drop of rain falls directly on her upturned nose.
It shouldn't be raining.
But it is.
Jovian looks up at the stormclouds that have gathered in a matter of seconds, anger flaring in his eyes as if the intensity of his glare alone would burn them off. He does not leave off his impulse to slide his hands around Kourin's waist and draw her in - her proximity moderates the tension building in him, and calm brings focus. He breathes deeply, both steadying himself and metaphorically scenting the air for the source of the shadow- manipulation he expects. At the same time, he once more weaves his will into the fabric of this shadow to hasten the cloudburst's blowing-over.
But the storm is stubborn, stubborn as he is. And its resistence is fueled from the island - from a source that feels familiar. Like, and yet unlike, his father....
"You asshole," Jovian mutters toward the island, and Kourin recognizes the tone as one she overheard in reference to his brother - affection tempered with a strong streak of pained exasperation.
//I do not think it is your brother,// Canareth contributes. //But your sister's mind is very much like J'lin's as well.//
"Who's the asshole, J'rim? What is it now?" Kourin is not yet angry, but there is strain at the corners of what had been a very sweet look a moment ago.
"The storm's not natural," Jovian answers, shaking his head resignedly. "Came up too fast. Conditions in this shadow are being manipulated. I think by my missing sister; Canareth thinks it's her too. And if this is a practical joke, I shall spank her."
He frowns, considering. "Dad thought she might be in trouble. I think I'm going to have to check this out."
"Anybody in the kind of trouble thirty surprise dragons can't solve is in real trouble. Should I see how much stone we have? The answer isn't going to be much. How do we help her?"
"Forget the stone for now. Until I know better what kind of trouble she's in, going in breath a-blazing sounds like too much of a good thing."
Jovian calls the riders together and explains what he wants them to do: All the dragons will head out to the island, low enough to scare the shipfish. Everyone else will stay low and circle off the coast of the island, preferably out of sight of any town, waiting for the signal to move in as necessary, while Jovian gets a closer look for a sign of where Robin is and what's threatening her. He also makes sure everyone receives a decent image of Robin, in case someone else sees her first.
What do they do when the signal is given? We're just going to have to react quickly to whatever situation we find....
L'Tarn and V'laren prepare the wings, re-rig for combat, and give orders to the riders. They have two questions: Do we know who we're looking for? and Are we allowed to go between?
Jovian patiently explains that the image he just asked Canareth to give all the other dragons is that of his sister, Robin. If anyone sees her, they should at once identify themselves as one sent by Jovian.
L'tarn says "We'll find her. Ever know a bronze rider who couldn't find a pretty girl?" You are convinced he intended it to be reassuring.
Jovian grins raffishly, appreciating the shared joke.
"As for going between...we're in a stable enough existence that skipping should be safe if you get shot at. Don't try for coordinates over any distance."
You are not surprised at all to note that the clouds are getting lower and there is a mist settling over the land.
Let the record reflect that Jovian is getting really damn sick of fog.
Objected noted. I blame Zelazny.
[Once you get to the misty island, how do you start trying to find your sister?]
For starters, I'll try manipulating Shadow again as I overfly the island, bringing up a freshening breeze to clear the mist; when she resists the manipulation I try to get a more particular sense of direction than 'from the island.' I don't try to be overpowering, lest she give up on resistance....
Nope, she goes with it. The mist blows off and a stronger wind arises, It rather rapidly starts to be a 'storm' and perhaps even a 'gale'. The wings go to ground, it's not safe to fly low. Canareth is higher (and stronger) and you can continue.
//I think she is in those hills. It is the center of the wind-pattern. Should we see?//
//Absolutely. And if she feels a need to call a storm, let's oblige her.// As Canareth moves closer, Jovian gets into the feel of the storm and helps it along - trying to add lightning strikes at or near the most likely paths into the hills, where Robin's theoretical pursuers might be making their way. His flight path scrupulously avoids such places, of course.
The rain comes down in sheets, and Robin would be in total darkness if not for the massive lightning storm all around her. No sane person would be out in this, much less standing back-to-back with a warrior, awaiting a massed charge. Robin is glad her hair is short, but is not sure how many swings the fireplace poker will last. She hopes her pursuers carry swords, so she can steal one.
At her back, the warrior tenses, and she feels him move even as she hears the howl of the charging warrior. A brief glance, over her shoulder, shows a massive, hairy man with a club. He fights bravely and wildly, and, eventually, in vain. But he ties up her guard and others rush her, small mob of the less brave, perhaps, but more tactically minded of these forest men. The two defenders fight as best they can, an impressive battle, moreso because of the rain and lighting.
Clubs, hunh? The Ranger decides to stick with her wrought iron buddy until such time as something better presents itself. Robin's snarl twists her face further and she sets herself to the serious business of killing as many of these bastards as she can. In as brief a time as possible. Her anger, her wildness pouring into the very land and storm around her.
Squinting against the lashing rain, Jovian takes in the situation at a glance. //Canareth,// he urges, //call the others. I want this place surrounded as right-now as they can manage safely!//
Time and defenders pass, and more of the enemy arrive, pressing the attack. The ground is slick with rain and blood and the man falls. Robin stands over him, protecting him with the bent poker. She senses that soon she will be overcome, overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Her pursuers mass and charge.
Realizing the wings will be just the tiniest bit too late to carry through his original plan, the wingleader urges Canareth into a tight circle and downward, plummeting toward the mass of fighting men.
It is at this moment that Robin notices the huge, bat-shaped silhouette rapidly growing above her.
Robin whirls, her green eyes flashing eerily in the storm. As she takes in the... size of the thing coming at her, blank astonishment on her face. Then her snarl returns and she sets herself to receive this new charge. Perhaps in futility, but that thing is going to at least get some respect for herself and her iron buddy before the crunching bits begin.
The Crunching does not happen. ("New from White Wolf... Junior High: The Crushing")
The war-cry of the dragon sweeping in is deafening. His companion knows it is, on some level, simply the great beast bellowing out 'I found her,' but it is a sound that shakes the trees. The lashing forked tail comes dangerously close to Robin as the behemoth comes in low from behind her, silvery gleaming talons almost raking the ground in a straight and true course into the center of the massed attackers.
From away above the surrounding hills - from all around - come the answering bugles of more dragons. Perhaps as many as two dozen, perhaps more, their triumphant call drowns out the storm.
Hoshith the golden takes the ridge above the cave. Canerath and J'rim are some way in front of it, knocking down soldiers and wild men alike. Maranth comes down in a stream bed and starts directing two smaller dragons from his wing to begin removing trees, making a landing zone for the wings.
It takes no more than three dragons to set the foes in flight. L'tarn asks J'rim (via dragon relay) if he wishes them pursued.
No, let them go. I have a feeling Robin knows where to find them if we need them later.
There were 40 of them, perhaps. Jovian thinks it must be his sister to keep 40 fighters at bay in an open space.
"What the hell?!?" Robin is obviously mystified, but decides that she can be mystified and moving at the same time. Ducking low, she checks to see how badly her companion is injured. "Come on, nice man. Don't die on me here."
He looks like he won't, but he should be brought in out of the rain. Also, there are dragons. Loud dragons. Apparently friendly.
Robin looks around at the dragons. Confusion still dancing on her face, but a smile beginning to form where a snarl was before.
As she picks up her companion into a gentle cradle carry, a chuckle goes through her. "You said there was nothing bigger than boar." She says fondly.
Stepping back, Robin looks around at the... loud frolicing lizards that are tearing up the clearing and her former pursuers. You know -- except for the wings. And the colors. The fact that they're Saurian or something. And, of course. the size! of them ... except for all that, they sure remind her of a pack of storm hournds. Whhhiicch means...
Robin looks around for the 'Alpha'. The regal golden being on the ridge behind her? Calmly watching all the fun? Robin lifts her emerald eyes upwards.
Canareth pulls up, wheels, and backwings to a landing - now behind Robin, since she's turned. The gust of air from wings big enough to bear 150 feet of lizard aloft is probably refreshing after the heat of battle, despite the rain. "Somebody order up cavalry?" Jovian calls as he clambers to the ground behind his sister.
As the wind from the powerful bronze blows Robin's short hair forward around her ears, she whirls eyes squinting against the rain. And the wind. And the darkness. A fortuitous lightning bolt strikes nearby illuminating the form of her brother sliding down the glittering bronze scales.
The Ranger's emerald eyes widen and delight lights up her face similar to the way the lightning illuminated the night. "J'RIM!" She calls happily. "J'rim! By the Green!"
Momentarily forgetting her burden, Robin makes to run to and hug her brother. But the amount of bleeding companion in her arms limits her to a strong shoulder nudge.
One strong arm goes around Robin's shoulders as the bronze rider beams at his sister. "Might as well get used to Jovian, Robin; I've given in to Dad's wishes that much!"
"Too bad. Oh, well. I'm sure you'll find something else to argue about." She smiles fondly and bumps Jovian with her hip.
"Oh, don't you worry about that..." He very consciously decides to move on from there.
"Long time, Robin. Your choice of company has gone downhill," he adds with a grin, gesturing over his shoulder at the routed fighters. "Whose game, and what's the score?" His tone is glib and his expression amused, but his posture screams battle-ready.
"Ah, dung. I'm being played, J'rim. Again. Shouldn't be a surprise." She grins up at her brother, completely unconcerned with the water pouring through her hair.
"The bitch with the death-wish is named Vianis. Formerly chancellor of this Island, now coup-meister. Nice man, here... oh, let's get him into that - hah! - cave, shall we?"
Robin moves toward a vvverry shallow cave in the ridge under Hoshith and keeps up the talk. "Anyway nice man here is named Siege. He's a heavy with the thoroughly trounced counter-revolutionaries. We met in Vianis' dungeons."
Robin's face gets still and white for a moment. When she looks up at J'rim, there is pure hate in her eyes. "She put me in a hole, J'rim. Underground. I'm going to serve her her own intestines.
"Oh!" As quickly as the ferocity came, it's gone. "You might want to tell your friends that we've got some powerful sorcery types running around here. 'Witches' and 'Priestesses'. They pack a punch with the restraining spells, can whip up constructs and are able to... I dunno, 'witch' things is what he said." She nods to Siege as she lays him down out of the rain.
"And J'rim. I think family's involved. But I'm not sure on which side yet."
Jovian has been patient through the recitation, even impassive before his sister's implacable fury, but the faint puzzlement etched in his brow deepens steadily. "Shit and crackdust. Family? Is that how you got involved in this whole mess?"
"Naw. I was just passing through. But this Chancellor person is a bit of a precognitive. Said she didn't like my omens. So she set a trap for me." A grin. "Nice bait too."
"Has she still got what she drew you here for? Thirty dragons on her doorstep might be a useful surprise, but we won't be a surprise for long."
Her brow furrows from where she's looking over Siege, trying to ascertain which blood is his, etc. And she shakes her blond head. "I... don't think she 'drew' me here, Jovian. I think she just knew I was going to hit her shores and prepped for the bad thing that was coming.
"But yeah. She's still got something of mine. And something of his." She nods to her vict... patient.
"So what's the hundred-word-or-less version?"
Robin's eyes flare with ferocity. "She's got my Trump of Dad, Jovian." She spits with venom - and perhaps of touch of desperation lurking there under the anger.
Jovian scowls deeply. "We can't have that floating around, you're right."
"And Siege's 'commander," one Avis." Jovian can hear that Robin suspects there is much more to that relationship. "This Avis person may be related and scheduled for sacrifice. Soooo my priorities are getting all screwed with here.
"Shadows may be shadows, but I'm still provincial enough to have soemthing to say about human sacrifice as well. Don't worry, we'll figure something out." By now Jovian is positively grim.
The young Ranger continues to wipe, clean and examine Siege's wounds with practical field experience. (How is he doing?)
He eyes the landscape outside their meager shelter, which he might have said was dissolving in the torrential rain a week ago - before he knew what that really meant. More dragons are gathering in the newly widened clearing. "And do you suppose we can agree to let up on the weather now?"
"Hunh? Oh yeah. Okay. Was that you fighting me on the storm?" Robin gently lets go of her anger in the air and ground. Not releasing suddenly, but slowly cranking it back down until the winds and clouds of the night can be returned to their 'natural' state.
At the same time, she redirects the flare of pattern fired potentialities. "Hey, J'r... Jovian? There's a dropped first aid kit under that bush over there. With the white berries? Would you bring it here?" From when the Brotherhood met their defeat here. Running. Fighting for their lives. In the confusion it slipped from a belt and tumbled to its hiding place.
Jovian lets down the effort he had put into the storm as well, letting its force drain away. "I was fighting it at first. Then I realized who it was and pushed along with you a bit."
You both stop fueling the storm. The gale is no longer growing in intensity, but is still a big storm. Flash flood warnings are in effect, don't drive through water if you don't know how deep it is.
[Jovian]
"First aid kit, no problem. And
I've just decided that behind that bush there should be another one
with berries that can be crushed into a reasonable antiseptic; I'll
get those too."
"Jovian?" Robin looks up. There's something swimming behind those emerald eyes. Something that the anger and the need of the situation is shoving aside. Something... afraid? "Thank you. Thank you very much. I... we'll talk in a bit, okay?"
His smile is genuinely warm as well as confident, and needs no words.
She smiles back gratefully and returns to her work.
He looks outside at the storm and back at Robin. "I noticed from the air, the island looks volcanic. Have you explored enough to know whether there are caves for my dragonriders to take shelter?"
A shudder runs through the young Ranger. "Oh, yeah. There's caves. Lessee." Assuming Siege is not in imminent danger of dying, Robin looks off into the distance, obviously measuring a track. "A league or so towards the edge of the woods." She nods. "There's a series of them. We didn't find a large entrance, but there will be one facing the sea."
Robin turns her face back to Jovian. "Will that do?" A plucky (but somewhat faltering) grin lines her lips. She's obviously not toooo happy with the thought of caves, but game.
Jovian nods, smiling again, possibly - just possibly - enjoying his sister's reaction as much as the thought of adequate shelter. "I've lived in caves all my life, Robin. That should do fine."
The Ranger shakes her head, a fond rueful smile on her face. "You, my brother, are a twisted and perverse man." She says with a chuckle in her voice, her eyes sparkling with loving laughter.
As Jovian turns to leave, and the lightning begins to die down, Robin finds herself in yet another darkening cave. Repressing a shudder, the girl briefly leaves her companion. In the back, she finds what she's looking for. The torn remains of a back-pack, scuffed over by dirt and hidden. And one of the pockets, a candle stub and fire-starter.
A few flicks of shaking hands, and a feeble golden light flickers in the cave. Enough to see expressions, perform medical examinations, and make introductions by.
He turns and steps into the calmer night to do these things. Along the way he gestures to Kourin and L'tarn to walk with him. "My dear sister Robin hasn't disappointed. She's gotten drawn into some kind of power struggle here that could widen; it would be irresponsible to put that kind of threat at our backs. I'm going to have to find out a little more before we make our next move; we're just going to have to lay low for a little - as low as thirty dragons can lay, anyway."
You find what you expect to find.
L'tarn says "it's too dark and too wet to go hunting tonight. Do we huddle here or do we pick her up and go huddle elsewhere?"
Jovian peers into the stormy landscape around them. "From the look of this island overall, I wouldn't be surprised if we find a system of suitable caves."
Kourin picks up the first aid materials, and sighs. "If this is what they've got, he better not be badly wounded. T'dor has better materials, even after we sent some back with the critically wounded. I'll call him." Her eyes unfocus.
"Excellent. Thank you, love." He must be stressed, Kourin will realize, for him to have said that aloud. Jovian picks half a hatful of the berries as well, just in case, then turns to return to Robin's shelter. If Kourin and L'tarn hesitate to follow, he'll beckon them along.
"Robin, this is L'tarn, rider of bronze Maranth, and Kourin, gold Hoshith's rider. My second and my boss respectively." His grin carries maybe a sliver more bravado than necessary. " L'tarn, Kourin, my sister Robin. Our man T'dor, green Shalith's rider, is on his way with better medical supplies than this, left over from the battle."
A brilliant smile lines the face of the bedraggled blood-stained soaking Ranger. "L'tarn, Kourin. Thank you so very much. I'm sorry to pull you out on such a miserable night, but your efforts are soooo appreciated." Robin speaks more formally to the riders than she does to her brother, but there's no less sincerity in her voice.
[Robin]
She nods at Jovian's comment concerning the other rider. And then pauses,
her brows slightly furrowed. "Battle?" She looks concerned, and Jovian can
see another of those deep flickers in his sister's green eyes.
"You didn't hear?" Jovian's tone is incredulous but his face is almost amused. "Bit of a dustup down in Chaos, Dad and all our uncles but Gerard down there with troops? It was in all the papers."
"Oh." Robin's voice is small and the perky ranger totally locks down. No signals of any kind come from her body language, vocal tones, or expressions. "Uh... are you and Dad okay?"
"Oh, jays, Robin," Jovian responds, apologetically, sobering at once. "I forgot, it's been longer for you. The battle wasn't ten days ago for me - Chaos screwed with time." He shakes his head slowly, as if still feeling a lingering headache from it - Robin might recall that Jovian has always had a quirky thing about time.
"Dad's fine," he reassures her. "Daeon came out of the battle all right, but took a hit somehow on the way home. He's back in Amber getting patched up. I...." He glances from L'tarn to Kourin, his eyes as much a whirl of emotions as a dragon's. "I'm uninjured." His eyes, as intensely green as his sister's, shine in the candlelight perhaps a little more when he looks back at her.
A flat understanding smile lines the girl's lips as she reaches up to take the hatfull of berries from him. She pauses a moment to clasp his hand in her roughly-bandaged one. "Jov... " concern for her brother starts to shine through her own shut-down, but she can't quite manage the words yet.
Eventually she just nods. "In a little bit. We talk. Please?"
"Sure," Jovian answers in a half-whisper, laden with emotion but meant to be reassuring. He squeezes his sister's hand back - carefully, not putting pressure on her injuries. "I've missed you, Robin."
L'tarn bows deeply. "Your father J'lin was a leader and a protector amongst our people, as your brother is now. He is my friend and can call upon my aid. However, any fighter who can keep two score of armed thugs at bay with a bent fireplace poker deserves the aid and respect of dragonriders whosoever she may be."
A big grin dances across the girl's face. "Flatterer." She says fondly. "I'm very pleased to meet you too."
Kourin looks at L'tarn with a lopsided grin. "He is, generally. This however, is serious. Also, J'rim never told me he had a sister."
[Jovian]
"But--"
"Hey, he never told me that J'lin was Lord Holder of a forest so vast that Maranth could get lost in it. You think you know a guy and he turns out to be from another planet..." L'tarn shakes his head, ruefully, but cannot disguise his playful grin.
[Jovian]
"But I--"
"Lots of people don't know the J'rim has a sister. It's nothing personal." She smiles to Kourin, trying to tone it down a little despite her rushing blood and the wildness of the night. "It's... used to be kind of an important state secret.
However, her nature gets the better of her again - what a surprise! - and she finds herself rising to L'tarn's grin. "Besides, the best guys come from other planets."
"You know," J'rim remarks, finally pushing a word in, "if I'd tried to explain it to you guys before you had a chance to SEE it, you'd have taken me off active duty and sent me to the healers!" His indignation is entirely self-mocking, of course.