Furniture and a Headache (Ka'rys)

[glamourie]

Of that, he had little doubt. Even if R’wign and M’ta had been perfect influences (a thought that Ka’rys found pretty close to laughable, even if he did treat both of the brownriders with more fondness than he did... well, virtually anyone else on Pern), the little girl had genetics working against her. Anyone with T’rid for a father was destined to be at least half way evil, solely because he’d been obnoxious beyond words. (Actually, the word that came to mind when thinking of T’rid was ‘disaster.’ It was followed by ‘catastrophe’ and other not-so-pleasant synonyms. And the mere thought of said bronzerider typically made Ciceroth gloat that Aslath obviously had no taste in bronzes; he was very glad his dragon was asleep at that moment.) He wasn’t supposed to remember anything about him though, considering that T’rid had gone ‘missing’ before Ka’rys was injured. His memories were very objective though; he couldn’t remember any irritation, though he felt certain that T’rid had doubtlessly annoyed him. All that came to mind was that under his watch, Selenitas had been massively poisoned, resulting in the death of the Weyrwoman, followed by an attack on the Weyr that left Selenitas almost permanently scarred. Objectively, he was one of the worst Weyrleaders Selenitas had. Whether it was because of lack of skill, or lack of effort, was entirely up to the interpreter. Ka’rys preferred lack of skill. Believing someone willingly let so many people die out of ignorance was something that he was not entirely comfortable with. Maliciousness he could handle. Apathy he couldn’t.

Tilting his head, Ka’rys clicked his tongue and shrugged. He honestly didn’t know enough about R’wign and Terilyn’s relationship to comment. It also wasn’t any of his business, and as much as he’d have liked to be able to help, he was pretty respectful of people’s personal lives and privacy. If R’wign wanted him involved, he’d have said something. It sounded like whatever the situation was, it was something that the brownriders needed to work out between themselves. He had a theory as to what it was, from the description M’ta offered – but theories didn’t help anything without eye witness accounts and he knew better than to shoot his mouth off. The only thing that came of babbling without full comprehension was that he came out looking like an ass. At best, he’d be wrong. At worst, he’d make things very bad, very quickly, by assumptions. Nope. He wasn’t going to say a word.

“Your dragon enjoys being a child’s playground.” Half-amused, Ka’rys shook his head. Ciceroth didn’t mind babies of any species climbing on him either. It didn’t really matter to him whether they were related to His or not. Ciceroth was very indulgent of babies though. See: Letting Chandath climb on him. He also was intolerant of those that weren’t indulgent. “You are only a baby once,” was the mentality the bronze possessed. Whether he got that fondness for young creatures from Ka’rys or not was difficult to say. Chicken and egg theory there. Both of them liked kids more than they did people. Ciceroth just hid it better. “I’ll let you know. Or, more accurately, I’ll ask Savitri to... since most of the time, Kera and Sammy are with her. I sleep in my office. It saves time and awkwardness, but there’s really no place for toddlers there.”

His hand came up to rub his nose and he watched M’ta gather supplies for a second before moving to help almost instinctively. The question caught him half off-guard, but he held out one hand to answer. His fingers were healing over – healing from very obvious injuries. “I’m better with close quarters; range isn’t something I’ll ever be terribly good at. I don’t snap my fingers anymore though so I’m making some progress. The ironic thing? Your bloody weyrmate can actually fire the stupid things without hurting himself. Can’t hit anything but he’s doing better than I am. And from the sound of it, better than you are too. I’m surprised he hasn’t been rubbing it in your face like he has me.”

[Requiem]

"My dragon enjoys everything young, cute or both. He's far more friendly than I'll ever be." Of course, Behruth wasn't all shinies and cooing over little ones. Even his problem with the wing was more of a ... moral? ... dilemna, and something else M'ta had trouble identifying and understanding, than some innocent distress at violence. And why would Behruth still have any of that innocence left, really? Even if he hadn't been bonded to a man with a more violent past (and yes, tendency toward reacting violently) than most, too much had happened here since Behruth's hatching. Only dragons who forgot easily, like Phre, could maintain that sort of innocence. Behruth's memory had always been good, even for a brown. Especially for a brown. And what he didn't want to forget, he kept shinies for to remind him of. "Only thing I'm aware of that he truly has an irrational dislike for is blatant stupidity. It pisses him off more than it does me, and that's saying something." Note: irrational. There were several less-broadcasted dislikes that Behruth had, after all.

A brow rose slightly at Ka'rys's comment about the office. M'ta knew that Savitri and Ka'rys weren't living together anymore, even knew that he slept in his office most of the time, but the reaction was more because the bronzerider had said it so easily. He supposed it didn't necessarily mean anything; what would have seemed private information that others didn't need to know about to M'ta could well be of no concern to others. He only knew because Savitri confided in him on occasion. Or, rather, he asked after her. She was moping around quite a bit lately. Actually it was surprising how long she'd been moping about this without really doing anything. Like starting over with Ka'rys if she really was that attached or moving on. Couldn't well pick up where you left off if someone had no memory of you. Not really his place to interfere, though, and Savitri already knew his opinion on that.

Nodding mildly in acknowledgement of what Ka'rys had said, he glanced down at the hand the bronzerider showed him, unable to resist a rather wry smile. Seemed like he wasn't the only one. His fingers were constantly bandaged now. Mostly because, even with a healer for a weyrmate, M'ta simply didn't lay off his fingers. They weren't getting snapped anymore, either. But considering he'd gone what amounted to months before figuring out how not to catch them? The fingers were very tender and easily torn. Rubbed absolutely raw, to be precise, and though he could've taken the days he didn't have wing drills and laid off them enough for them to actually heal - as well as form callouses that would prevent this sort of thing in the future now that he wasn't snapping himself - that would require not practicing. And he made a point of practicing for a candlemark a day, even if he didn't think it would be of much use to him. By the time he got good enough for his archery to surpass his ability to throw knives at a moving target with accuracy in terms of range? It would probably be turns. He never missed with a knife. Well, apart from odd flukes like something moving into the line of fire or a random trip over a stone or something.

Long story short? The fingers weren't healing. They didn't bleed anymore unless he lost track of time - other things took priority over archery - but neither were they healing.

"R'wign?" M'ta didn't bother to hide the surprise that crossed his face. Ka'rys wasn't someone he felt the need to conceal things from. A small chuckle. "Well, no doubt he would, but he thinks I still don't know that he trains with you. Archery too, huh? R'wign's good at everything he tries. I envy his learning curve quite often," the brownrider commented lightly, amusement evident in his tone. "Yeah, he's probably doing better than me still. I'm having trouble with aiming. A lot of trouble, actually. It's not like throwing knives - completely different movements - but when I want to hit something at range, the mind just goes to those familiar tracks, you know? Irritating."

[glamourie]

Had he met Ciceroth, Ka’rys wondered briefly. It rose unbidden to his mind, that question, and was just as quickly banished. M’ta’s remark earned little more than a nod. He could definitely relate to dragons being nicer than their riders. Ka’rys wasn’t nice. He was rarely cruel (despite what some people thought of him), but he wasn’t nice. He liked to think of himself as practical; he didn’t have time to socialize. But even if he did have time he probably wouldn’t have. Ka’rys didn’t enjoy small talk most of the time (it made him uncomfortable and feel awkward – as evidenced by the sudden gaps of silence in his responses to M’ta and he liked him; imagine how bad it was with those he didn’t). He was tempted to point out that disliking irrational stupidity was just a sign of intelligence – but he refrained. Truthfully, Ka’rys felt awkward commenting on anything relating to Behruth. He really didn’t know the brown at all. While Ciceroth insisted adamantly that the brown was a very sweet dragon, it was difficult to make any kind of assessment of him without talking to him. He had no reason to address Behruth so he didn’t. Better to let the topic change to something a little more comfortable. Maybe. Hopefully.

Sadly, the rescue discussion seemed to be about R’wign and his secret keeping. Fortunately, this was a subject he actually understood. Ka’rys snickered quietly to himself.

“He knows damn well that you know that I’m routinely smacking him down. If he’s pretending otherwise, it’s just because he’s R’wign. He always tells me not to bruise his face or you’ll sulk,” he replied with no small amount of amusement at the healer’s expense. He never hit R’wign in the face anyway. Face hits were saved for people he disliked; it also put R’wign at a disadvantage because he only had one eye and he couldn’t afford to have it swollen shut. He’d pointed it out as a weakness but Ka’rys did not exploit it. Others might’ve. He didn’t need to in order to win. He was about three times faster than R’wign on a good day. Twice as fast on a bad day. “He doesn’t want to talk to you about it because he wants to surprise you with his progress. He’s got the irrational fear that you’ll be disappointed that he’s not a natural. You can talk to him about that if you want I guess – but he hates that it doesn’t come to him like breathing. He also would argue he’s not a fast learner at anything. He sulks if he doesn’t get things on the first try. It’s amusing and annoying at once. I keep having to remind him that he’s not a child anymore and it stopped being cute several turns ago.”

He was decent at archery though. Ka’rys attributed it to upper body strength, and well, the simple fact that the practice dummies seemed more like hunting than something he could use to hurt someone else. He firmly believed most of R’wign’s problems were psychological: he couldn’t stomach the concept of injuring another person so he didn’t do so. He instead obsessed over defense. He’d never told R’wign the theory. He was making progress. Best not to push him too hard. “It’s like apples and oranges. You’re probably better off not comparing them because their functions are entirely different,” Ka’rys explained coolly. “R’wign thinks of archery like hunting, I’m pretty sure. It’s why he’s not twisting it up in his head. Try to view it objectively instead of falling back on what you know. Not that it helps – I don’t have the upper body strength apparently. I keep messing my arms up and everything else. It’s really annoying actually.” Or he was holding the damn thing wrong. There was that too. “It’s understandable though – I imagine if we were using something hand-to-hand for practice, which we will be soon, that I’d be just as bad. Daggers are my thing.”

[Requiem]

M'ta was, by the end of Ka'rys's comments, smiling wryly. Oh yes, he was more than familiar with just how his weyrmate expected to be perfect at everything on the first try. Easier when you were young and everyone was equally bad, because then you could compare yourself to them and almost always come out on top. Once you ran into people who had been doing whatever it was for turns, though? He wouldn't mention to R'wign that he didn't think the other brownrider was really a natural at much of anything. Faster learning curve definitely. Comparatively it might seem like you were born with the skill but no. M'ta would begin believing in 'naturals' when he witnessed one himself and no sooner. Some people definitely did learn faster, though, and seemed to be ridiculously good at a certain skill all too soon, and R'wign tended to generally have that sort of...luck? Ability?

Intelligence, maybe.

The younger man shrugged mildly. "He's not worth arguing with most of the time. Especially when it's R'wign that's the focal point of the argument. He'll either learn eventually that it's okay not to be an expert the moment you try something and that everything takes work, or he just won't learn anything else. Long as he can take care of himself long enough for someone else to come help I'm content." Yeah, he worried about his weyrmate, but R'wign being a healer definitely protected him more - usually - than the average person here at Selenitas. Something of a waste to get rid of a journeyman healer. "It's a step in the right direction that he's actually motivated enough now to be making progress."

It had, for the space of a few moments - or days - bothered him that R'wign wasn't asking him to help. But M'ta didn't mind that anymore. Ka'rys could teach him the right way, for one, and he'd long since come to realize that he was definitely not doing things the right way. M'ta was effective. For a self-taught kid from the streets of Bitra. He had so many bad habits, though, that it was almost disheartening, especially because he had issues with obviously being the weakest. Pride, some would say, but it was actually survival. Behruth and M'ta were notably one of the youngest pairs on Legatus, which would make them a target right away. Add to that Behruth's lack of experience and M'ta's jacked-up fighting style...he'd rather not be the obvious weak link to exploit. If not for himself, then for Ruth and his family.

A brow rose slightly at Ka'rys's words. "Upper body strength...you're built strongly enough that it shouldn't be an issue." Why? Well, he was built a lot like M'ta, really. They might even be able to wear each other's clothes comfortably, it was that close, and upper body strength wasn't a weakness of the brownrider's. M'ta couldn't resist wrinkling his nose. "Don't tell me we'll be trying to use a whip like Elysia's? That looks like it would take turns to get right, at least right enough to be of any use in a fight. She's scary with it, but...she's also been doing it forever." Yes, he sparred with Elysia. Fairly often. Probably would've asked Ka'rys, but...eh, Ka'rys was already spending precious time on R'wign and definitely had more to worry about than another wingmember.

On the plus side, M'ta was getting good at fighting someone with a whip. Now if one of the 100th of a percentage of people who fought that way happened to face off against him he'd stand a chance.

...

Yeaaaah.

[glamourie]

“He can take care of himself pretty well, actually. Especially when I manage to make him angry. Telling him he can’t do something yields pretty impressive results, until he catches on at what I’m trying to do,” Ka’rys admitted. He was manipulative, yes, though no where near as skilled at it as R’wign was. Or maybe the proper phrasing of it was that he didn’t typically bother. The brownrider had a serious problem with losing though, worse even than he did, and that was saying something. Ka’rys had always assumed it was bronzeriders who were supposed to be competitive; he was, most of the time, he just had all the ambition of a rock when it came to a higher agenda. Ambition meant leading. Leading meant responsibility. Responsibility meant effort to take care of others. Ka’rys hated having to put forth that effort. Part of him still begrudged S’rei strongly for putting him in charge of the infirmary – for a second time, even if the first he hadn’t been assigned – during an attack. Less lives lost than he’d expected, yes, but every injury, every person who died, felt like it was his fault; he could’ve prevented it if he’d just been smarter. It pissed him off to think that way and he blamed S’rei for putting him in that position. He didn’t like that hanging over his head.

Thoughts for another time. Ka’rys clicked his tongue. “He’s motivated because of you.” He didn’t elaborate on why. M’ta could figure it out on his own or ask R’wign himself, but he had asked. He’d said outright that he wanted to know why it suddenly mattered to him when it never did before, and R’wign’s response had simply been, “I know what it feels like to lose a weyrmate, and I won’t put anyone else through that. I don’t want to imagine M’ta alone.” He’d called him mushy, tripped him and got sand thrown in his face for his troubles. The ‘friendship’ he shared with R’wign was actually more like that of siblings. They bickered, they squabbled, but Ka’rys was still furious that he’d ‘allowed’ R’wign to get hurt. A sentiment he was sure was shared by his current conversation partner, actually. He knew very well he was illogical: it was not, in any way, his fault. That did not take away from the feeling of guilt and responsibility, that he should’ve been better, smarter, more clever, something to prevent it from happening in the first place.

He didn’t voice that either. He did however smile. “Whips are impractical. Amusing. But impractical. Elysia’s choice of weapon is questionable. She can use it to be dangerous within reason but before she could even get the damn thing swung, I could chop her into pieces. But to be fair, I do intend to let her teach us eventually. My goal is for everyone on the wing to teach each other their specialties and from there, for all of us to pick up new tricks. Which reminds me – how well do you know the layout of Selenitas?”

The topic change wasn’t as random as it might’ve seemed. Ka’rys was trying to come up with the best way to organize the wing and put them to good use. They all had their specialties, and he was hoping that maybe they could start work on things other than self-defense. He wanted to assign Evrgarde with locating scout positions around the Weyr – hidden areas people could remain where they could alert Selenitas to the arrival of others, or people coming nearby. They usually got attacked from the air but just in case, they had to be ready. And M’ta? He wanted to know if M’ta had any ideas for escape paths to be built inside the Weyr itself – the best place to hide those who were too weak or unwilling to fight. It seemed practical enough to him. He was still trying to figure out what purpose Elysia served other than cradle robbing, and Iskierka had (much to her blatant irritation) gotten stuffed onto Weyrlingmaster Duty; asking more of her seemed cruel. Thus, he was stuck. A’emi remained, but... he didn’t know what he thought of him. Yet. Tch. And E’rro. E’rro needed to teach everyone basic first aid, hm...

[Requiem]

Chuckling, M'ta set the gathered wood down near his workplace, fingers going - almost of their own will - to the ring on his hand. Twisting it idly. He could visualize it all too well, really. And at least Ka'rys had the fortune of not having to deal with the more irritating side of an angry R'wign. (For all that, an angry R'wign was far better than a guilty R'wign, because it didn't usually take too much to get his weyrmate back into a better mood. Guilty R'wign's were very hard to get out of the bathing room.) Right now, though, in all truthfulness it was M'ta causing the problems. Fighting with his natural paranoid streak was very difficult for him without 'Ruth to even him out, and he knew it was putting a strain on everything. But since R'wign already knew about Ruth, M'ta didn't see what discussing it would do. Felt like an excuse more than anything. Just ignore me when I act like a fool, it's Ruth's fault. Yeaaaah no. He simply was a fool, and Ruth helped him not act like one constantly.

The idea that R'wign was motivated...because of him...was an odd one. He also wasn't entirely comfortable with it. Of course, part of that was it was a rather obscure comment. Motivated to get better...to impress M'ta? To protect him? Who knew. The brownrider might ask the man he was joined to at some point, but R'wign had never brought it up, so he felt a little uncomfortable initiating the topic. That or maybe it would just be easier not to know and just worry about the results. If he was getting better, it was good. If he thought he was good enough to put himself in foolish situations, M'ta would ream his ass. So there.

Discussion of the whip had the man smiling again, though. Yes, in all truthfulness...he really didn't find the whip to be a good weapon. It was different. Because of that, it could be surprising, and there were definitely some advantages to it that he'd run into while sparring with Elysia. But it wasn't a quick weapon. It required distance. It also required a lot of free space so it would be useless in any enclosed area. She made up for it by using her dagger for anyone who got inside her range, but that wasn't her dominant hand. Pretty much anyone of skill could take advantage of that as long as they weren't caught flatfooted and had some idea of how to deal with the weapon at range. He imagined it was a good deal more effective in a pack of bodies than on a more one-on-one basis. Still, M'ta left those sorts of assessments up to people who knew what they were doing, so he was loathe to make too many judgmental comments about it.

The man blinked at Ka'rys's question. "Selenitas? I don't know. About as well as anyone who's been here almost seven turns, I expect." Which was not a particularly helpful answer, when it came right down to it, but he wasn't really sure what his wingleader was asking. "Um. I know all of the hallways and tunnels in the cliffs...the ones we don't use anymore included. All the areas around the buildings that no longer exist. Used to know everything on foot about a half-day's brisk walk from the weyr. But it's been awhile since I've had the time for that and things change. Beyond that, enough to know good places to hunt, or spots where the wings drill. Why? Was there something you need to find?" Seemed unlikely, considering Ka'rys had been here longer than M'ta had, but you never knew.

[glamourie]

“Thank you for an impressively helpful answer. Let me try rephrasing the question,” Ka’rys replied with a sarcastic enough drawl that it was pretty obvious he was not at all impressed by the answer – at least initially. He was good at sarcasm. Usually with M’ta he was too awkward to be himself – because he really didn’t know much about R’wign’s weyrmate aside from the fact that he was good with knives, faster than him (something Ka’rys was highly begrudging about; he was used to being the fastest person around, but he was also used to being the smallest), and that R’wign was besotted with him. He was learning more from this conversation than he had in turns. Oh, in theory he could ask Savitri but talking to her about people wasn’t easy. She always got defensive; he suspected she’d have thought he was judging M’ta and he couldn’t blame her. He and M’ta got off to a bad start and she had unknowingly compounded it for a very long time. Part of him wondered if M’ta had the slightest idea about that – but if he didn’t, Ka’rys wasn’t going to fill him in. It wasn’t worth dredging up the old memories and awkwardness to explain, even if he did think it was amusing in retrospect.

The question was posed for a purpose, and Ka’rys clicked his tongue to collect his thoughts before explaining why he’d asked. “I want to create escape routes for everyone incapable of getting out of Selenitas on dragonback. We’ve got a lot of drudges, crafters, weyrfolk, even candidates, who can very easily be trapped here.” He let those words sink in and moved to examine the wood. What had then been doing? He’d already forgotten. Impressive, that. “We need a way to keep everyone here safe, get everyone out of Selenitas easily. And I’m thinking an escape path, a route, to keep our people from getting killed. I know my way around the grounds, from my usual running, but that doesn’t help me with places people could hide here from attackers, or ways people can sneak out of the Weyrs themselves. I’m more ‘how to hold an area’ oriented than escape tactics. I’m wondering if you can help with that?”

He didn’t need M’ta to answer it. He knew from the answer that M’ta posed – saying he knew all the old hallways – that he could do it. He half-wondered if M’ta had the confidence. He didn’t know him well enough to judge that aspect, but what he needed was someone who knew their way around and what they were doing. Evrgarde was better for tactical defense: where to position people to get the best shot without being seen and Ka’rys intended to ask her opinion. He didn’t believe it was possible for one person to orchestrate an entire defense for the Weyr. In the north, the Weyrleaders and their seconds all handled that; S’rei had to handle Selenitas as a whole because there weren’t enough bronzeriders to do it. Which meant he, Ka’rys, had to rely on his wing more than most would. It was both a strength and a weakness. Sadly, he didn’t trust most of them. They were on his wing to be babysat. He trusted M’ta. He trusted Evrgarde. He trusted E’rro. The others hadn’t earned their place yet.

“What do you think?”

[Requiem]

If M’ta had ever taken exception to sarcasm flying at him, R’wign had most definitely scoured that out of him. (Truthfully, he hadn’t; sarcasm was a very familiar part of his own language, after all. Though no one could wield it quite so - spectacularly - as R’wign.) He already knew his answer wasn’t a good one, but he’d tried, for what that was worth. Hard to answer something out of context like that.

A brow rose at Ka’rys’ description. Escape routes? Well, that would be easier in some ways now that everyone wasn’t scattered all over the place. (And in buildings that liked to burn when a dragon flamed.) That said, funneling everyone through the same route carried a lot of risk. He’d always chosen places where you could scatter on relatively short notice, so that even if people saw you they couldn’t chase everyone. Ka’rys had said routes, so he wasn’t ignorant of that, but finding that many different ways to clear out would take a lot of time, exploration and possibly renovation. Not to mention preparation of the weyrfolk and all the others who would have to be ferried otherwise, so they knew where to run to and what to do when they got there. They’d need to create blinds for any exits, emergency caches of non-perishables, first-aid supplies and probably weapons, too. A means of communication or a rally point would have to be established. With a small den of no more than a couple dozen thieves - usually closer to twelve - it wasn’t so great a task. And everyone came to develop eyes for escape routes after awhile, with rally points already established, so you didn’t even have to worry about going over it again at each new location. This, though, was the non-dragon rider population of the Weyr. And the weyrlings who couldn’t Between. Which introduced a whole new set of problems.

Hideaways, too? “…I think you just gave me a turn of work in the space of a few seconds,” he commented dryly. Which was answer enough as to whether he would do it or not, when all was said and done. “How fast does this need to be done? And I’ve never liked the going to ground idea, not in an enclosed area. Closing off the exits and doing a ceiling to floor sweep from outward in will almost always turn up whatever you’re looking for. Don’t mind finding places to hole up in the Weyr, just in case you don’t have the option of getting out, but definitely not ideal.” He shifted slightly. “The biggest problem won’t be finding escape routes. There are plenty. Some of the passages here lead back into a natural cave system. Getting everyone educated on where to go and how to act when they get there…that’s going to be the biggest challenge. Could just divide it out into sections of the Weyr and instruct one or two people thoroughly so they can pass the information on and make it run smoother if we end up using it, I suppose…” he mused aloud.

M’ta pushed a strand of hair behind his ear, making a face. “I’ve never done it large-scale, Ka’rys. Probably going to need help, if you want it done with any speed.”

[glamourie]

“You’re welcome?” Ka’rys replied dryly. Oh, he knew very well that it was a lot of work. It wasn’t supposed to not be a lot of work. Making Selenitas into something safe was more than just a project: it was an all-consuming job. He knew that. But it was important. “My philosophy is that we need to get people out of Selenitas in a situation where we can’t always count on the dragonriders and wherhandlers to do an evacuation. I’m thinking of it like this: If we get attacked, we need the people who have the least options to defend themselves to have somewhere to go, some way to get out of ground zero. Hideaways are a last minute resort – I don’t like it, but wouldn’t you like, for instance, somewhere for your kid to be hid at if we get attacked like we did last time? It’s a necessity. Oh, yes, people will find them if they search. But the point is some place not blatantly open while we try to prevent them from being able to search.” His hand came up to rub his nose and he sighed softly. “I know it’s hard. It’s hard for all of us. I wasn’t exactly grateful when S’rei decided to dump this on me and our wing, either – but someone has to be willing to think this stuff through. If you need help, if you need people, I’ll get you them. If I can’t, I’ll make S’rei do it or worse come to worse, scare people into obedience. But it has to be done – and the sooner the better. I’m planning to give the entire wing assignments like this.”

Ugh, that was more words in five minutes than he’d spoken in the last month. Time to go to sleep. That thought pushed out of his mind and Ka’rys nodded absently. He knew M’ta was going to need help with something like that – it was common sense. He’d get him whatever he needed, from whomever he needed it from. He didn’t have the time to think everything through completely himself, and he was pretty sure his head would’ve exploded by trying. He’d picked M’ta to ask for the simple reason that M’ta had enough people in his life to want them to be able to escape without having to rely on Between. He knew better than to voice the reasoning, though. It probably would not have been well-received.

“Think about it. Give me a list of who you want, when you want them. Entire Weyr of people. Pick who you want and they’re yours. If I have to annoy S’rei to the point of making him want to drown himself, I will. I kind of enjoy doing that anyway.” There was a definite note of amusement in those words, before he sighed. “It’s frustrating to try and think of every possible way we could be attacked and try to think of a counter for it, a way to deal with it. It’s frustrating and exhausting.” He was actually driving himself insane, reading the old notes he had from Fort and Benden for ideas. The worst part was that even anticipating everything, they couldn’t prepare for it all. In the end, there were just too many people to try and protect to anticipate everything. Ka’rys was... frustrated. Understandably so, he thought, but frustrated just the same.

[Requiem]

Philosophy, huh? He'd call it more common sense, but whatever the bronzerider wanted to deem it was fine with him. There was no place for non-combatants in the middle of a fight, and the northern riders had proven true to form countless times, taking advantage of any who couldn't fight to try to control the ones who could. That said, it was a fool's dream to expect to be able to hold anything long enough to evacuate the entire weyr, not if hard-pressed. At best this was a 'better than nothing' scenario. He'd do it, though, because it was needed, and because he wasn't of the habit of refusing something when he didn't have a better alternative to offer. When it came right down to it, M'ta was the one who thought in terms like this. Ka'rys was right on that. And, short of teaching everyone at Selenitas how to defend themselves, getting them out really was the only option. The thought of his daughter...tch. Did he have to bring that up, like M'ta needed convincing and hadn't already agreed to finding places to hide people as well? It wasn't that he wasn't aware of her danger already. Thinking about it directly made his stomach clench up, though. R'wign may be the one he loved most of the people in this weyr, but he was a grown man; it wasn't the same as imagining a defenseless child in such a situation.

Well, at least Ka'rys didn't expect him to do it alone. (He wouldn't have, anyway. M'ta had been here long enough to have some favors he could call in, when it came right down to it, even if most of those favors weren't with people who rode shinies. Metallics weren't the type to go skulking through dusty, abandoned tunnels, though, so it was no great loss.) "Wherhandlers," he stated abruptly. Those, for sure, he knew he'd need. Maybe just one or two, or even only a chat with them, but they knew the area surrounding Selenitas better than anyone. They'd also be able to find routes through the old tunnels and cave systems easier than any human could. "Wherhandlers, probably Mae - she's been here long enough, chasing after children - and I'll think about the rest." Rubbing lightly at the tip of his nose, his materials secure, he turned toward the Weyr, waiting for Ka'rys to fall in beside him. Perhaps presumptious, but they were mid-conversation at all.

"Is that what this wing is for? To counter every possible...?" He waved at the air, not finishing the question for lack of a word that really meant what he desired to convey. "Spread the butter too thin..." That thought wasn't finished either. M'ta respected what Ka'rys was trying to do, and maybe he was just not as quick to learn as other people, but he didn't feel like he was truly mastering anything he hadn't already developed over turns worth of effort. Perhaps he was just naive or inexperienced. It seemed to him, though, that learning something thoroughly would have been more beneficial than learning a dozen things in passing. Or maybe it was just that his life was too full outside wing drills...what with a family and six hours spent in the infirmary daily. He usually got out to do some woodworking, yes, but that was becoming less and less frequent as time went to other things. Not enough time in the day. Never enough time in the day. And now he had a weyr to evacuate.

Regardless, nine people was too few to safeguard an entire weyr from every eventuality. That much he was certain of. Spread too thin.