The Hunter's Song

13: Restless🔥(Shale)

"There are four survey teams en route to LH387," Lor, head of the Graven Taskforce, stood in the middle of the senior operations conference room, pointing into a giant hologram hovering over the central ring. The eight-foot-tall Forged was predominantly navy blue with azalea pink claws and brilliant pink highlights. She was Oru's third and four months pregnant, with her muscular tummy beginning to plump. "Their mission is to collect samples and to perform comprehensive scans, all while minimizing contact with the planet's inhabitants."

She scrolled through a series of freeze-frame images of a black field plucked from the original recordings. The Graven matter was highly concerning, and I had even volunteered my services for dealing with the problem when the threat was first presented.

However, today I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"It's our intention to develop a viable detection algorithm that will integrate into our primary orbital and helmet scanners," Lor continued, standing amidst a compilation of technical diagrams and lines of code. Her silver waist armor jingled as her hips swayed. The light from the reflection hit my eyes and the flicker of Mourning Crow's wet iridescent skin slithered to the forefront of my mind.

The tips of my touch-quills grew warm on the side of my face and I immediately clenched my fists to ward off the insidious thoughts, only to be reminded of a more recent humiliation. I cut my hand on my axe this morning.

I'd never made such a youngblood mistake. I was performing my routine sharpening this morning and slashed open the inside of my palm. The pain was nominal and the wound was barely worthy of attention, but the personal shame continued to fester.

"We're also rebooting a previously abandoned personal shielding device, for emergency Graven protection only," Lor's holo-presentation illustrated a three-century-old blueprint of the scrapped mechanism designed to work in tandem with our armor's weapon recharging system. "Like U'la'ke DNA siphoning, Graven contamination cannot be permitted."

"It should be known," Lor turned sternly to her fellow council members, fully prepared to abate their justified objections. "This is a temporary, and mandatory directive from Medical Prime. This device can and will ONLY become active if a Zhaguai's helmet proximity scanners are triggered. Until we collect more data and develop an effective means of termination, there will be NO contact with the Graven beyond the purview of my taskforce. If you take issue, go and see how far your bitching takes you in Medical's chain of command."

Lor was always at her best when she was eviscerating insolence.

"Thankfully," Lor roamed the inner holo-circle, highlighting the video recordings of the battle collected in Eh'kt's helmet. "Our brother, Eh'kt, had the presence of mind to put his clan over his own glory. This sacrifice has provided us with a significant advantage and has enabled my taskforce to act with the utmost efficiency." Lor directed this very matriarchal statement to Oru. Her point had merit. Sadly, the majority of my brothers would have adhered to tradition and focused solely on completing the ritual.

"I will make a note of this in the next grand assembly," Oru nodded. "Eh'kt's loyalty will be rewarded appropriately."

How is it that a guy I never heard of before the Nexus Melee, is now hovering on everyone's lips almost hourly?

My ears burned with the echoes of his mate's lewd moans. The way she breathed while riding him, Eh'kt pinned on his back completely submissive and groaning like a female vau'puk in heat... the tremor in the Mourning Crow's legs. My brain flooded once again with that fucking image of her struggling and popping all the way down, landing on the bottom with a satisfied wiggle.

I dug my thumb claw into my palm, opening my wound again. It was the only way to mask my licentious scent.

When will this end?