"Man, the wind's throwin' a fit today!" Mourning Crow shouted with her long prismatic hair whipping hard in the air.
"We should adjust the speakers," I typed into my wristcomm to alert my crew aboard the Black Needle.
We were standing in the middle of a grey desert prickled with tall pink and white crystal spires sparkling in the rising sun while fully revealed in front of the city of Karwarak, the largest city-state in the eastern hemisphere of Menthla.
According to Mourning Crow, this was the place to be during the week-long Carnival leading up to the celebration of the Day of First Light. At least it was when she was a child, hopefully, the tradition still held true.
My crew and I kept our bio-masks on to make use of the internal microphones for our upcoming debut. Surprisingly, we had a large turnout for auditions. Yautja may be tone-deaf but they'll fight tusk-and-claw for a spot on the front lines to represent Jahaa.
"We've got their attention," Eh'kt pulled up an overview of the city on his wristcomm showing the inhabitants of the city congregating at the main wall.
The last few days had my Adjutant in a state of stress I never expected the cunning yautja to be capable. I might have joined in his anxiety if I hadn't been so preoccupied trying not to laugh.
Mourning Crow had been wildly oscillating from fast talking to pensive silence the closer we drew to her homeworld and the black-scaled yautja was at his limit between his duties as my Adjutant and keeping his mate from climbing the ship's walls.
His only respite was when Mourning Crow was giving me lessons. Music had an immediate calming effect on the razkur.
"Alpha," my Operations Officer spoke through my bio-mask comm. "Audio adjustments have been made to account for the elements. We will be dropping the speaker drones imminently."
"Good," I responded. "Commence when ready."
The entire Envoy Armada hovered overhead with the Black Needle as its flagship. It wasn't quite a full battalion war fleet but it was enough to prove Jahaa's prowess.
"More than half the city is gathered," Eh'kt made an update.
"Soon," I let out a long breath.
Rehearsals had been awkward. I struggled and the 3rd and 5th cords and was forced to spend the majority of my off hours in Mourning Crow and Eh'kt's quarters repeating scales and straining to keep up as I played alongside the razkur.
Her lessons were rigorous but she was surprisingly patient when I required extra guidance. At any time, even when I avoided requesting assistance, she'd pause and walk me through whatever difficulty I grappling with. Had these lessons been with my bearer, she would have simply shouted an order and kicked me when I failed.
Though the razkur did occasionally jest that her sire would have demanded that I be able to play the melody backward and forward. She claimed I was lucky because there wasn't enough time.
"Ready?" Mourning Crow passed me a wide sincere smile as she reached for my instrument to confirm that it was in tune. She had also taken the liberty of painting my instrument all black with the word Jahaa inscribed in red letters along the left side.
"I am always prepared to present my voice for Jahaa," I watched her ears flex low toward the strings while her slender fingers danced across the bridge.
The plan was simple. Mourning Crow would handle the music while my crew and I shouted the code. Once in yautja, followed by a second identical refrain that I would perform solo in Oto-Winde.
YOU ARE READING
The Hunter's Song
Science FictionIn winning, she lost everything. Mourning Crow was kidnapped at age 13 and forced to compete in a 1000yr death match. She won the final showdown, and all it cost was everyone she loved. But that was all years ago before she finally broke free. Now s...
