[PLOT] Subversion

[glamourie]

It was early evening - too early for a full attack to be surprising. The sky was darkening enough that the wherhandlers were beginning to wake; most of the dragon riders had left dinner, only those who dined late were still in the main hall. For early winter, it was actually chilly; the leaves of the jungle were covered in frozen dew and the first touches of true frost. Tropical winters were nothing in comparison to the north, but Selenitas Weyr was not typically so cold. Even the river was primarily vacated, with only those few brave enough to withstand the waters daring to venture around it. The reconstruction had temporarily halted, perhaps because of nightfall; who could say for sure? All in all, the main hall was hardly as populated as it could have been -- and the timing was like that intentionally.

They winked from between.

A casual onlooker might notice that the full wing of dragons appearing high above the Main Hall was not as brightly colored as those of Benden, nor as sickly. In comparison, they appeared to be strong, healthy beasts with remarkably pale hides. Not a single dark one stood amongst them -from the pastel blues to the almost golden hues of the bronze wingleader who circled around until his beast could land on the platform. The wing was a full fighting wing, numbering a good seventeen, and they glided around the tree that made up the main hall with ease. Though the alarm sounded from Selenitas, it only took them a matter of minutes to strike. Everyone left on the outside of the Main Hall was taken down - wher, human, fire lizard and dragon alike. Not with fire; they were considerate enough to avoid damaging structures… but the body count at the dragon landing was numerous -

A gold fire lizard.
Two full sized green dragons.
Two adult bronze dragons.
A blue wher.
An adult blue dragon.
Five individuals; doubtlessly the riders belonging to the dragons.

They struck quick, hard and with efficiency. The entrances were blocked off by dragons, completely preventing anyone from coming closer. The largest bronze sat several paces from the bodies, looked at them, and bowed his head. There was no pleasure in his actions, and the rider on his back did not seem remotely happy at what they’d had to do. Those few individuals did not even appear to see it coming; they were unfortunate enough to be either around the river, or near the entrance of the main hall. The fire lizard in particular brought them guilt; flits rarely deserved to be killed. But they were under orders, and even if they didn’t like it, they acted on them.

The bronze rider hopped from his beast’s back and stalked to the entrance of the second floor of the main hall, where individuals dined. He and three others, along with his beast, kept anyone from exiting - even if they wanted to. He was a tall man, older than most of Selenitas’s bronze riders, with dark eyes and scars all over the right side of his face. His knots marked him a wingleader. His posture marked him not from Selenitas -- and the way he stopped, more to prevent any exit than to harm anyone else -- marked him not from Benden. His hands folded behind his back as he called out for everyone trapped in the dining hall to hear:

“Greetings, Selenitas Weyrfolk and Wingriders,” he said, glancing at his companions. “We are the Delta wing of Fort Weyr. As some of you may have noticed, the Main Hall is sealed off. Remain calmly in your seats; do not attempt to leave or you will be killed. You will all be released as soon as your Weyrwoman and Weyrleader can be bothered to come down and talk to us. Thank you.” It was probably more courtesy than most would have offered but - heh - he didn’t care much for what they thought of him. He was serious. If they started panicking, heads would roll, and the dragons outside had their orders: kill anyone who tried to escape. But no unnecessary deaths would be caused if they could avoid it. He didn’t like slaughtering defenseless idiots if it could be helped.

[Avu]

She felt their loss instantly. Both of them.

The shock, the snap of bonds – was enough to make her sick to her stomach, and Meira instantly doubled over at her seat, pressing her forehead against the table to prevent herself from literally throwing up there and then. For a moment, the whole world spun; disoriented, abruptly terrified, she inhaled, sucking in air, blinking rapidly to try to keep the tears back. Meisk…and Zesa. Both of them…her arms instinctively circled her stomach, and she swallowed hard. Mistake – please be a mistake – please – keeping her forehead against the table (she’d more or less forgotten about R’wign, had even forgotten what she’d been saying, though she was pretty sure she’d been mid-sentence), Meira reached for Meisk’s presence – and then Zesa’s – and found the blackness more than she could bear – she mentally recoiled from it so hard that she actually shuddered physically, all but hugging herself in an attempt to keep herself from falling apart, which was what it felt like.

And then the tears came, and Meira clenched her jaw together, too disoriented to even consider what had happened as her tears fell into her lap. It was a moment before she remembered R’wign – if he’d said anything, she hadn’t heard or noticed, and the first words that came out of her mouth were: ”They’re gone.” She spoke so low, the words coming out choked, that she couldn’t even hear herself, though that might have been the fact that she couldn’t concentrate enough at that moment. Swallowing, she raised both hands to her eyes, wiping her tears away – not that it helped; they simply continued to fall. “They – Meisk – Meisk and Zesa – they’re both – I can’t feel them – they’re gone…”

She actually curled up in the chair, close to panicking. They’d promised – promised without words never to leave her…they’d promised…Meira bit her lip so hard that her teeth actually broke skin, trying to keep from outright sobbing. The feeling of absolute desolation – not one, but both of her mindmates, her darlings…they’d gone. She couldn’t feel them – they’d never leave her, not willingly – why had they gone…? Dropping her forehead to her knees, she closed her eyes tightly, reeling mentally. She didn’t look up when the door opened – but she heard, and felt almost instantly ten times worse. It was her fault, wasn’t it…? Meisk usually stayed in the jungle, and Zesa with him – but she’d called for them to come back, because she’d been almost done – if she hadn’t called, they’d have been safe. Her fault. Her fault…

Why would they kill a firelizard?

Meira wanted to run out – run to see them. If they hadn’t managed to go between…the nausea rose again, and both arms looped around her knees tightly. If she kept her eyes closed – she could make it a dream – all a dream – and when she woke up, they’d be back…waiting for her…Meira barely registered the taste of blood in her mouth; she just wanted…she wanted the pain to go away, the emptiness, the dark loneliness…she never wanted to move.

~*~*~

Rusa was lingering in the Main Hall. It wasn’t that he had anyone to talk to; he was just seeing if he could possibly break curfew – open defiance to the Candidatemaster, hello! The Candidate was seated cross-legged on one of the chairs that had been pushed back into a corner, one elbow resting on a windowsill, his head bowed forward enough that his hair almost completely concealed his face. His other arm was settled along the armrest, his fingers tapping occasionally against the dark wood. Hmm…a candlemark more, or so, and then he could head back to the Barracks, and get ‘distracted’ on the way there or something…idly peeking out of the window – it wasn’t one of the windows facing the landing; it faced away, instead – Rusa reached out blindly for his drink, which he’d set precariously on the edge of the table next to him –

Delta wing of Fort Weyr.

Rusa froze, and (displaying just how silent he could be, and had not been for Emoyan) stared at the Wingleader through his hair, fingers trembling not a centimeter away from his drink. His lips parted slightly, and his hand slowly dropped back to his side, and then slid down his boot. He didn’t draw – because they hadn’t yet. Something very, very close to raw hatred rose inside of Rusa, and he bowed his head farther to disguise the anger in his eyes. Stupid – stupid Fort; did they insist on butting in everywhere where they had absolutely no business being? His teeth were bared behind his hair, and he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from outright snarling before he straightened in his chair, flicking his head sideways to get rid of his hair to eye the Wingleader with blatant suspicion.

What did he want? To talk to the Weyrleaders? Kill them, or actually talk…? Hnn. Impassively, Rusa looked out of the window again – and found his gaze more or less completely blocked by a nice view of some pale blue dragon’s tail end. Sticking out his tongue in silent defiance, Rusa looked back at the Wingleader and cocked his head to one side slightly, eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t the Watchdragon given warning? He uncrossed his legs, shifting his elbow from the windowsill to his side, warily eyeing the Fort Wingleader. Was he going to start a massacre or something? He didn’t seriously come down, take control of the Main Hall, and…plan on hosting a peaceful conference in full view of everyone dining there?

[archenstone]

Asharra thrust her cane under neath the table once more. Since she was using her left hand....she naturally missed her target.

This target was a young brown rider by X'vier. The largely built man had been in the infirmary during one of her shifts and peaked her curiousity with his interests. So today, he was humoring her. His arm held rock steady as the old woman tried...unsuccessfully.... to distract him into loosing. He grinned, knowing his table mates where getting a shin beating by cane.

"You really should try with both hands MasterHealer. Surely then you may have better luck?" He teased her, watching her her face turned redder.

"I don't need two hands to deal with you! I'll show you respect for your elders you young hatchling!" She strained against his arm as she struck some ones knee cap with her cane.

"Well, I think you should use that cane for walking. After all your hips aren't as good as they used to be. Surely with your age...you should be retired." He could feel Mirazeth's mirth at his situation. From underneath the table popped Passion. Flicking his tongue he climbed up and reared...pushing on Asharra's hand as if to help....crooning encouragement.

The smart reply Asharra was ready to say turned into "EEEEEAAAh get that thing OFF ME!" Suddenly the sound of random body parts being jabbed came from under neath the table as she frantically tried to beat him with the cane. "Get it OFF!. Passion get OFF!"

Apparently, Asharra hasn't lost her distaste for flits and mandyrs.

Suddenly she felt no resistance. Ha! She must have hit him that time! "I WIN!" She yells loudly as she pushes the limp hand into the table. As she looks around she notices the dead quiet. Her excitement ebbs away at the peoples expressions then looks to see a rider standing in the way of the entrance. Her face pales then reddens as the information sinks in.

"Now wait a minute! Just who do you think you are!" She gets up off the table, cane in her left hand. "If you think you can just stride in here I've dealt with worse than a young upstart like you!" The cane raises threateningly until a hand pushes it back down.

"Stop, Asharra" X'vier had gotten around the table to her and stopped her from marching off. "Let's wait...we don't need more blood shed." He spoke quietly and pleaded with her by his eyes not to go off in a tangent.

Surprised that he was already in her way she stopped and looked at him. Then she looked back at the Fort wing leader like she wanted to fry him in oil and salt. Seeing that she wouldn't help the situation she ungratefully say back down.

"HMMPH. You'll wish I got a hold of him!" She mutters. X'vier sat down next to her and eyed the Fort rider warily. Mirazeth...don't go out there...wait...a better opportunity may arise. He knew Mirazeth wanted to tear them up for their actions and even Passion, sensing this man was bad, hissed venomously from the table.

[topaz]

Venus had just gotten her plate, full of bread and thick slices of meat, and sat down towards the back of the hall. Her blue wher was only a pace behind her, silent as usual but radiating tightly wound nerves. The slender beast was always a bit fidgety when around other people, but there was something about the dining hall that night . .

"Relax my love. I'll only be a minute. I told you, you could have gone to eat yourself." Venus cooed quietly to the wher, placing a hand on his narrow muzzle and scratching him gently. Venusk sat to his bondeds left, between her chair and the shadowy wall nearby. At her touch he pushed up against her hand, but only for a moment, then settled his head in her lap, looking with bright yellow eyes out into the rest of the dining hall. Then all of a sudden, just as Venus was about to begin eating, the wher's head shot up, hitting into Venus' arm and causing her to fling her fork haphazardly into the air, and clattering against the stone floor under the next table over. Something was wrong.

"What!? What was that fo- . ." A rush of images and disturbed feelings bombarded Venus' mind, streaming out of her wher at a startling pace. There was a blurry image of another wher, and many large, random dragons, and a clear sense of fear. The blue whined loudly. Venus stared surprisedly at her beast, trying to filter through his feelings and images. Venusk never made a sound, except when . .

"Who di- . ." The wherling stopped mid-question, and whirled around in her seat to face the front of the hall. An unusual amount of commotion could be heard outside, just before a rider strode purposefully into the center of the room. Venus' eyes narrowed. Who was he!? Not another . . no, finding his knots Venus could only make out that he was not from Benden, being so far away from him. Then shards! Who was he? Her question was answered almost immediately as the tall, older man introduced himself and explained his sudden appearance in an almost . . courteous manner. What kind of invader spoke so civilly? And what was Fort doing at Selenitas anyway? Was this some kind of twisted revenge for C'leon's murders nearly two turns ago?

Venus had her hand on the hilt of her dagger almost as soon as the man had entered the hall, and she now fingered it anxiously, waiting, just waiting, for the man to suddenly attack. Surely he would not come into their Weyr, kill a wher - Venus could finally recognize Meisk as the victim, from Meira's suddenly pained expression and movements across the hall - and then not intend to fight the rest of them? If he was going to be so civil about his little introduction, why not make a formal appearance in front of the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman directly? There was no need for bloodshed! Venusk crawled defensively in front of His, growling low in his throat, his orangey-red eyes trained on the intruder. The man would not hurt His.

A sudden outburst from a woman at another table held Venus' attention for a moment, but the man with her was quickly sensible enough to calm her down. He was right, there was no need to provoke any more bloodshed. As long as someone could go alert Kaegan and K'roi, the tense situation may be dissolved.

[Tashe]

You could say he was a little tipsy, but not by much, at least he wasn't full on drunk. Nibbling on a bread roll, Nautic hummed quietly to himself, nearly tripping as a horrible noise came from outside. "Nyah?" Almost skipping over to one of the windows, the Wher Candidate yawned. What had that been? He hoped it wasn't the Candidatemaster come to disembowel him for attempting to stay out past curfew. He had so much to live for! Continuing to feed, Nautic pressed up against the glass, not seeing very much from his vantage point. Maybe one of the windows at the front would show him. He felt like Absinthe, except maybe her more sober brother. "Aww... Absinthe." He felt like going back to see her, since he had left her in the barracks. It was see her, or stay out late, and since there was nothing to do but nom on his bread at the moment... he chose to return. The noise all but forgotten in favor of his new plan. Unfortunately, he was completely unaware of the swift takeover of the first floor.

In fact, he was about ten paces away from the three men appeared. Almost falling backward in his haste to stop - the men were actually quite frightening in his eyes- Nautic froze like a frightened child, his half eaten loaf of bread hovering near his chin. He stuffed the piece of bread in his mouth to hold it, allowing his hands to free and be held up slightly. Well going back certainly wasn't an option now. I bet this is Faranath's way of punishing me for drinking on a lesson-night. Stepping backward, he made a hasty retreat to the tables. See look, he wasn't trying to escape. No! He /loved/ here. He'd live here if they wanted him to, so long as they didn't jab him with anything pointy. And what the shards did Fort want with them anyways. That Weyr had never seemed to involve themselves with Senitas like Benden had. Were they here to take advantage of the massacre that they had only just survived through?

Scampering to a corner he practically threw himself into a chair, making it rock so hard that it almost tipped over backward. Making a surprised noise, Nautic stabilized himself before sighing gratefully. It was only after he had exhaled did he realize he had gravitated toward a familiar face. Getting up, he spun the chair around so he could sit on it backward. Scooting closer to the other boy, Nautic removed the bread from his mouth. "Ruuussaaa." He spoke quietly. "Rusaaahre. What is the Delta Wing? And... uh... mind if I hid-- chill over here?" He fidgeted as he crossed his arms over the top of his chair, nibbling frantically at his piece of bread.

[Sheari]

C'ryl was really enjoying the evening. Not many others were eating late and that was nice. Pagoth was sound asleep in their weyr and Child was busy eating a slice of meat he had given her (he'd grabbed a smaller extra piece just for that purpose) and was making a mess on the table from the juices. He'd wipe that off when she was done. When he went back to eating he felt Pagoth become restless. It was odd for him to awake this late and soon the reason why would reveal itself.

A young woman C'ryl didn't know reeled on the other side of the room. He watched as she practically fell forward with her head on the table. She curled up and looked to be shaking a bit but the brownrider couldn't really make out what she was doing.

“We are the Delta wing of Fort Weyr...

Oh no. The ex-Fortrider wanted to hide. True they were a fighting wing and all C'ryl had ever done was fight Thread, but that did not mean they would not recognize him. Fort was a decent sized Weyr and it wasn't uncommon for dragonriders to live there and not know other riders.

C'ryl told Child to be quiet and hoped beyond hope that she would listen this one time. Promptly after being told not to, she flew up and nestled on top of C'ryl's head and chirped in her "mother hen" get up. Inconspicuous? Not so much. Stay where you are and stay quiet. C'ryl said to a waking up Pagoth.

~*~*~

Anusha had just gotten off chores. Her hands were stained a bit from the ink in the records room and she made a note of bathing either later tonight or early tomorrow morning. On second thought, tomorrow morning would be better since she needed her sleep. She hadn't yet checked the postings for when the next lesson would be. Another thing to add to her list of things to do before she finally returned to her furs. Right now she would grab something quick to eat so she could sleep sooner.

After grabbing a piece of bread she looked for a spot to sit. Well, since she didn't know anyone else she deigned to sit next to Rusahre. Her opinion of him was that he was quiet and bitter and a little self-absorbed. She didn't know why he seemed to always frown and be sarcastic and hide behind his hair but at least if he decided to be rude with her she could retort back and know she wasn't ticking off someone of a higher rank. Ah well, such was life and right now the man seemed pre-occupied with the window. When she looked up, she too saw why he was pre-occupied with the window.

The light blue tail and the man walking in did not make her feel anymore comfortable. The atmosphere in the main Hall was palpably tense and at least one person looked to be severely sick while another seemed to be on the edge of battering the man with a cane. When he began speaking her gut froze. Now she had a good idea of why that one woman seemed to be sick. Anusha couldn't help but feel bad for her.

Movement and a voice coming from a chair caught Anusha's attention and she looked over to see it was Nautic. He looked to be just as nervous as she felt and the whercandidate seemed to not notice her. "Nausi, do you know what's going on?" Quite obviously the Fortrider wanted to see the Weyrleaders of Selenitas and no one probably knew why right now but having someone else say they didn't know (unless he did know, which she doubted) would make her feel better.

[Rowana]

Roivao stiffened as the new arrivals announced themselves, none too kindly. He knew that voice. He didn't need the man's declaration to know who they were. He had never been a part of Delta wing, but that didn't mean he hadn't know them. Instantly Roi sought for his mind mates. Roisk was in the jungle, hunting the scent of a wherry for his dinner. Tiida was still curled up in his room, complaining about the cold. Roisk nudged his mind. Should he return? He would defend them to the last! Roi firmly dismissed the idea. The bronze wher might be big, but he was no match for a dragon. It was better to wait then rush into suicide.

Roi turned to face the Wingleader. He was only a few tables away. It was possible the man would recognize him, but why should he? Roi had never made much of a name for himself as a rider and Fort probably thought he was dead anyway. Seeing his former allies though brought back a flood of memories. Of Iloth, his days at Fort, even the war. If he had stayed, would he even know be preparing to attack Selenitas? It was hard to say what his old Weyr was planning, but clearly they were up to something. Roi could barely relate to them anymore, what could they be thinking? He could only sit and wait, watching the Wingleader through deep, sad eyes.

Merridan was not suppose to be here this late. She was supposed to be sleeping peacefully with the other candidates. But hunger would not wait, so she had slipped out for a bedtime snack. Just her luck. Mer looked up sharply as the strange riders came in. Her eyes blazed and her hand went for her dagger, but stopped. They weren't attacking anyone. They wanted to talk, so they claimed. It was very clear that this would not be a pleasent chat about the weather. They were hostages, plan and simple.

Mer lowered her hand. Attacking now would just get her killed, and likely others as well. Auran growled angrily at the strange men. "Stay!" Mer hissed. Auran glared, but did as he was told. Mer glanced around at those present and spotted some familiar faces. Three other canidates from her class. She slipped slowly around the edge of the hall to sit with them. "Everyone alright?" she whispered. They probably were, nothing had exactly happened yet. But what else could she say?

[Rei]

Raylin skeptically eyed the man as he spoke. Would this Delta wing leader really release them after he spoke to Kaegan and K’roi? Biting her bottom lip the weyrling slouched down in her chair to avoid detection. Frantically her mind sought out Ebolath’s. The green was out feeding. Ebolath could hardly eat in front of hers anymore for the sight and smell of blood made Raylin sick to her stomach. To put it gently the green was angry and confused about the current situation. Giving her dragon and order to stay put, least she be killed, she added not to inform Corinth. The last thing Raylin needed was to worry about T’rid or the bronze being harmed. Ebolath complied, although her eyes changed from yellow to crimson and she stalked the feeding grounds in fury. This was the last time she ever let hers out of her sight. Obviously her bonded attracted danger like carcasses attracted scavengers. Growling low under her breath Ebolath fretted, pacing back and forth over the bloodied grounds.

Her dragon safe for the moment, Raylin glanced around the main hall and her eyes came to rest on Meira. What was wrong with the healer? She looked as if she was about to break down any minute. Just then Arrogance swooped down from his perch on a shelf to land on his bonded and shriek shrilly at the invaders. How dare they! They needed to leave. These people where his to mess with. These riders where obviously stupid. The green rider went white. Stupid little flit would attract attention when it was critical that she stay ignored. Suddenly a bronze blur shot into the air and tackled Arrogance to pin the squirming blue flit to the table. Hero looked up at Raylin and gave a croon. He would keep his annoying son quiet he would. His was safe in the barracks but his gold was still here in the hall she was. The bronze sat firmly on the blue flit effectively pinning him.

---

Malara slid her chair back to eye the intruders thoughtfully. Mask was out hunting away in the jungle. Lucky thing, for if he had been around the wher would doubtlessly have gotten himself killed. The blue wherling felt for her knife and rested her hand on the hidden hilt nonchalantly. Sure they were free to go. Of course, that’s just what the Fort riders wanted them to think. They where all probably marked for death. It would be easier to lead the lambs to slaughter if they trust you.

Keeping a calm mask on her face The blonde hunkered down to wait keeping her thoughts carefully guarded from her blue. She left enough contact to be sure as to where the blue was however. If Mask sought to come back she would have to command him away for now. Malara had no desire to have her wher killed. Movement drew her attention to Mer. What was she doing? Didn’t she hear what they said about staying in your seats? The candidate was begging for disaster. The blue handler sighed and turned her attention fully to the intruding riders. If the stupid girl got herself killed it was her own fault.

[hseru]

The evening was proving fairly uneventful for Rozen and her bonded. Despite no longer living in the borrowed dragon weyr, Rozsk had decided to continue her gliding practice apace, climbing to higher ledges so she’d have more time to twist in her ungainly way through the air, trying to learn the rules of flight without the natural instinct born into her larger cousins, not to mention the wing capacity to really succeed in the endeavor. This didn’t seem to phase her though, and the gold was enjoying secondary results from her gliding practices; her muscles, already taunt on her somewhat thick frame, grew not in size, but in endurance capability. As if to add to this sudden push for athletic superiority, the wher had recently taken to hunting her food in the jungle, instead of taking easier game in the feeding grounds. This was something that came natural to the wild bred gold, and she was slowly gaining more ease with traversing the trees and varied terrain surrounding Selenitas. If this had anything to do with the fact that Rozsk was rapidly approaching sexual maturity, she made no overt mention of it, and Rozen saw no harm from the exercise.

It was thus that Rozen came to the dining hall for the ‘wherhandler’s breakfast’ a little before full dark, breaking the immediate connection to Rozsk as she entered, the faintest brush of foliage against her hide a dim, fleeting feeling as the gold slipped into the jungle for her own breakfast hunt. Zeek was wound loosely around Rozen’s neck, his versatile brown tail easily able to reach the short distance while he perched mainly on her shoulder. He had long ago gotten used to the hours they kept, and his even brown coloring had returned to its normal tone rather than the grey-tinged of his earlier sleep-deprived state. He was active, alert, and eager to eat, as he was so often passing on to hispet via distorted images of all kinds of food, his tail tip twitching against the hollow of her throat. Grabbing a plate, Rozen gathered items from the kitchen, uncluding a small platter of scrambled eggs for Zeek, and something a bit heartier for herself. Namely, a rather decadent meat stew complete with vegetables and a roll or two.

She found a mildly empty table (and no wonder for the hour) and settled in to eat, letting Zeek down to the table to gobble up some of his favorite fluffy stuff. They weren’t long into the meal, however, before a racket kicked up at the entrances, and an unknown man entered, flanked by dragons of a particularly light hue, only barely visible through the far door. His announcement took her with as much surprise as everyone else, and Rozen’s hand went to the dagger at her hip without conscious thought, ready to retrieve it. She’d been practicing with the new blade, and it had quickly become a welcome addition to her abilities. Now, she held the immediate urge to launch an attack on these new adversaries, realizing that she had little chance. Instead, she reached for Rozsk, only to find that the gold was already at least partially aware that something was wrong. Rozen let herself slide into the gold’s mind, seeing what she saw for a moment before retreating again. Filling in the rest of what she knew, Rozen bade the wher remain hidden, but that she contact the other whers, and their handlers. Not certain what she’d do once contact was gained and established, Rozen nevertheless felt that it was better than doing nothing.

Rozsk slithered deeper into the jungle so that there’d be no chance of her golden hide giving her away to the far less sensitive eyes of these invaders. She reached for the now familiar minds of her clutchmates, touching each and relaying information and images. Hers and Theirs were in danger again, but there was little they could do at the moment.

[glamourie]

She froze and … without words, he knew. R’wign tilted his head to look at Meira, his visible eye going wide. She didn’t have to speak; he knew without words something bad had happened. Not what - but something bad. It was fortunate that he was sitting next to her, for when she finally did speak, it was so quiet as to be almost unheard - but he was listening. R’wign’s entire body froze for a split second before he acted on instinct and draped his arms around Meira, pulling her close to him. Her curled up posture led to him half pulling the … former…? Wherhandler into his lap but he didn’t stress those details. His grasp was on Meira’s shoulders, trying his best to comfort her as all of his fire lizards swept around them. Ellie remained on R’wign’s shoulder, but Roxie hopped onto Meira’s and rubbed her head along the girl’s chin. The rest of the group cluttered protectively around the two of them, in a manner of speaking separating them from their surroundings, but --

“Meira. Meira, look at me -- please…?”

Both of them - Zesa and Meisk both…? The idea of them dying made his stomach clench. Ellie peeped quietly and nudged him in her attempts to reassure. The arrival of someone at the doorway and his words was all but ignored by R’wign, who was doing his best not to throw up everything he’d eaten in the past five minutes. If something happened to Checkoth he probably would have… well, R’wign didn’t think he would’ve survived it. And he wasn’t entirely sure how tightly whers connected to their handlers, but Meira looked… she didn’t look good. Seeing her cry tugged at his heartstrings, but the upset was replaced by a surge of worry that almost had him shaking. Almost. The only thing that kept him from completely panicking was the knowledge that Meira was, undoubtedly, quite upset -- the last thing she’d want was to see him freaking out, too.

So he hugged her, as tight as he could considering her curled up position (and with special care not to dislodge Roxie). His head leaned against hers, and he glanced up toward the doorway with a puzzled look. The men standing there looked to have a purpose, and all around him people were talking; he could hear whispers, and even one woman’s outburst. He glanced at Asharra with a death glare, and then leaned down to whisper in Meira’s ear.

“I’m so sorry.” It sounded lame. He didn’t do comfort, despite being a healer. He could hug her, hold her, keep her close, but he couldn’t comfort her adequately. The closest he could come was apologies that would probably have come across as worthless. They felt worthless to him. What did someone say when someone else lost their mindmate? ‘I’m sorry,’ didn’t really cut it… “I don’t have a handkerchief to dry your tears this time, gorgeous, but you can use my shirt if you want…” Maybe… maybe it would make her feel better just to know she was not alone? He wasn’t going anywhere. Even though he couldn’t have with the people in the doorway, he would not have left Meira - not alone, not when she was so obviously upset. He just wished he could do more… than… sit and hug her. And hope she knew he cared.

From his perch on his ledge, Checkoth shifted. Only a silent warning from R’wign kept him in place. He wasn’t so move. Wasn’t to move. He wanted to go to R’wign, but he couldn’t. Squirming uncomfortably, he did the next best thing and mentally reached out to Meira, MeiraMeira, he said, not calling her ‘wherhandler’; he was intelligent enough to know that phrasing might have stung and he was trying to comfort her, not make things worse, R’wignmine is worried you will leave us. Don’t leave us, please, Meira; I like you, I don’t want you to leave us. I would come down there but R’wignmine says it is too dangerous for me to do so. When you can, I want to lick you.

* * * * * *

The woman’s outburst made him freeze, and the wingleader quirked an eyebrow curiously. Glancing at his companions, he turned back to her before replying drolly, “I somehow doubt we’ve met, madame, and I would thank you to take your seat as I said before. Unnecessary deaths are unpleasant.” His statement was, perhaps, disgustingly blunt - but he didn’t move, or go after the individuals who were walking around (despite his requests for them to stay put). Since none of them were bolting for the door, he’d be fine with them walking around a little. So far no all-out panic had ensued, a fact he found gratifying; having to slaughter a bunch of defenseless fools wasn’t something he enjoyed. Nor something he would have had to do under a real Weyrleader… but R’anatar was all that they had. He snorted gruffly.

“To answer your question, we are looking for some of our missing riders. When they have been returned to us, we will release you all unharmed. Should your Weyrwoman and Weyrleader refuse to comply… well, I would think after what happened this summer, you all know just how well your lovely tree houses burn.” He didn’t like the idea of having to burn down the main hall of Selenitas. It was a nice enough structure, if impractical, but if their Weyrleaders decided to be stubborn and not hand over J’lorin and his compatriots -- well, it wasn’t going to end well for their people. Having hostages tended to make others very eager to give up information and hand over individuals. It was practical, rather than an attempt at cruelty. Killing those surrounding the area prevented side attacks, any warning for defenses, but also it gave them an advantage of showing they were serious. All in all, he deemed it a more sensible way to go about things than simply sweep in and try to take over.

He just hoped Selenitas didn’t do something foolish - like attack them. The entire wing was a fighting wing, and they were capable of doing immense damage in a matter of moments. Trained for it, no less, and they’d brought firestone. If the timing wasn’t indication that they weren’t fully attacking, though, then nothing was.

Vidorelth?

His bronze touched on his mind and then crooned - a sound audible even to those inside the building. Stretching out languidly, the dragon mentally contacted the two dragons in charge -- Senior Queen Millieth, Gareth - I am Vidorelth. K’zornmine would like to speak with Yours at the Main Hall immediately. We would ask that you come peacefully to talk. Your Main Hall is under our control, but if you cooperate with us, no one else will be harmed. You have less than half of a candle mark to comply, or we will start taking lives one at a time. We do not wish to do this; I would suggest that you hurry. Do not bring a fighting wing or we will kill them all. And then he went silent, though his posture changed, ready to defend if need be. He did not believe they would come willingly.

[Rei]

Raylin shifted in place but didn’t speak. They where looking for missing Fort riders? The weyrling looked about the tables and her eyes settled on Meira and R’wign. The brown rider seemed to be taking control of the situation so Raylin examined the other tables. In all actuality things could be a lot worse. There was no doubt about that. Although the weyrling was nervous she wasn’t really scared. The Fort wing leader didn’t seem to be insane or blood thirsty. Chances where he meant what he said. Taking a steadying breath Raylin set herself to waiting. It was really all she could do for now. Ebolath settled down on the feeding grounds to wait as well, her half eaten meal sitting beside her. The green was no longer hungry, not in the least. She was extremely worried and so the desire to eat had long since passed. The anger in her gaze dimmed back into the customary yellow of anxiousness and her tail tip twitched erratically.

Hero scolded Arrogance quietly and then released him as soon as he was positive the errant blue would obey. The blue winged over to Raylin to perch on her shoulder, eyes whirling in red and oranges. He stayed silent however. Almost brooding. He would make the bronze pay one day he would. Raylin raised a hand to stroke along her flitter's back. The touch did little to soothe Arrogance but he allowed it nonetheless.

Malara was quickly becoming bored with the whole situation. It was a load of crap. Dragon riders thought they owned Pern. Snorting the blonde continued with her meal. No sense dieing on an empty stomach. If she had to go, it better be in slight comfort. All the while she kept a firm hold on Mask. The blue was seething in rage after Rozsk revealed what was going on. He obeyed the gold and stayed out of sight but he desperately wanted to maul those who threatened his. His low growls reverberated through his chest and he flashed white teeth in the direction of the main hall. His perfect seemed calm, but it riled him to no end that she was in danger. No one had a right to threaten his. Especially not his flying brethren. How he loathed them.

[Avu]

Some part of her was aware of the fact that she was actually shaking from the shock and grief, each breath trembling; she was curled up so tightly, forehead pressed against her knees, that she couldn’t have gotten any smaller if she tried. Meira had her eyes squeezed tightly shut, gritting her teeth to keep from actually crying out. Meisk – she’d adored the wher, and the wher had trusted her. Only her. He’d listened to anything she said without thinking twice, and – and he’d been following her instructions – as had Zesa, and the gold firelizard had always been obedient to her wishes, too. Her instructions. She had betrayed them – had they had time – to think? To feel and to hate her? She hated herself…she wanted to die; she’d rather die than live with the guilt of knowing…they’d trusted her implicitly, and she’d – she’d as good as killed them…

The ex-wherhandler only numbly registered R’wign wrapping his arms around her, but she didn’t resist to being pulled closer, either, instinctively leaning against the brownrider, though she didn’t uncurl from her position – she’d fall apart – she would. Roxie’s weight on her shoulder, the green’s rubbing against her jaw made her actually flinch; part of her wanted to imagine it was Zesa – her darling who’d promised she’d never, ever leave her – but imagining only made the reality harsher, darker; she took a shuddering breath, trying to calm down. She honestly did try, but she couldn’t focus on anything but the loss – the emotional agony; the two names repeated themselves in her mind: A mantra that made her want to curl up even tighter, and just stay that way. Meira shook her head slightly in a negative at R’wign’s request to look at him; she couldn’t look up – because then she’d have to admit that Zesa and Meisk were gone – that the firelizard on her shoulder was not her lovely, her perfect gold…

R’wign’s words only made her curl up tighter against him, almost automatically, and when Checkoth touched her mind, Meira’s breath caught in a mixture of surprise and pain: The touch to her mind so soon after she’d lost her own mindmates made her throat nearly close in panic before she reacted, shaking her head and then half-turning to press her face against R’wign’s shoulder, though her hands remained locked around her own knees; she was stunned, shocked, and terrified: She had completely forgotten how life was without either Meisk or Zesa, and she couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it would be – the silence without the two of them, the uncertainty of her own existence and importance to at least one person – she couldn’t – the baby. The baby…she latched onto the thought, trying to close out everything else, trying to ignore the ache as she murmured the words, unable to make herself speak any louder, against R’wign’s shirt:

“T – tell Checkoth I won’t leave, please…”

She couldn’t ‘leave’, not when she was pregnant, however much she wanted to. That would be – that would be as good as taking another life – a third one, to add to Meisk and Zesa’s – and she couldn’t – she absolutely couldn’t.

~*~*~

Rusa looked like he was about to kill – which was probably not the ideal time for Nautic to arrive and take a seat next to him. The Candidate actually growled, low in his throat, eyes focused not on his fellow Candidate but on K’zorn; Nautic’s question made him flinch, ruining his concentration, and the level of patriotism fell as golden brown eyes flicked towards Nautic and then away again. “They’re the Delta Wing,” he hissed, the anger in his tone unmistakable. He’d come to Selenitas to get away from the bloody war and from Fort and did they have to come here?! His fingers closed tightly around the dirk, instinctively, as one of the women started yelling at the Wingleader. He had enough sense – he wouldn’t act first, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he wouldn’t be relatively pleased at a chance. He jerked his head briefly at Nautic, in an affirmative: He’d actually feel better if the Candidate stayed: He liked Nautic.

Then he noticed the other two Candidates, and actually twitched. He hadn’t noticed them before; Rusa pulled his mouth to one side in a mixture of surprising amusement and annoyance: Of all the nights they decided to break curfew…? Hnn. “Fort’s what’s going on,” he commented quietly to Anusha, his gaze focused again on K’zorn; Mer’s question didn’t even warrant a look from the Candidate: Rusa just nodded briefly, and then bowed his head again, trying to hide the very prominent anger on his face. Dead giveaway that he didn’t like Fort at all, hello – but Rusa honestly couldn’t help it; he’d spent four Turns hating Fort Weyr, and old habits died hard.

He kept his head bowed as K’zorn explained the situation, and then, when he raised his face again, he almost smirked. Missing Riders. They’d come for missing Riders. Since when did either Fort or Benden care about missing Riders? Whatever. Someone hurry up and get Kaegan and K’roi there, then. Even if it was some kind of roundabout way of killing the two, it wasn’t like Rusa had any fondness for the pair yet anyway. So. For a moment, he didn’t speak, and then, when he did, it was only for the three Candidates next to him: Nautic, Anusha, and Merridan. Much as he disliked the last two, he did have some tenuous connection to them, and that was good enough for him. Rusa kept his head bowed even as he spoke, his lips barely moving. “If it escalates into an attack, please don’t do anything stupid and get yourselves killed. Please don’t.” He kind of didn’t feel like having to do stupid things, himself. It was doubtful it’d get that far, but just in case – he didn’t need one of them flailing away, obliviously, or something of the like.

[Tashe]

She had been on the edge of her seat ever since the alarm had sounded, Millieth having been one of the first to pick it up. What in Faranath's Golden name was going on? Pacing with her arms folded behind her back, Kaegan flirted dangerously between anger and fear. Had Benden decided to come back? Why would she remember being told to rebuild then? They could have been messing with her mind... But Baith seemed different. She wanted to screech in frustration, but instead took to quickening her pacing. No one had tried to contact her yet! Crossing her arms, the Weyrwoman fidgeted unhappily, the black material of her tunic shifting back and forth as she moved. She didn't like the color black, but it was the first shirt she had pulled out of her dresser in her haste to get ready. Not having expected to wait for what felt like forever to get information.

/Mine./ There was an ominous shadow to her Queen's 'voice. What, what's going on? She stopped dead in her pacing to listen. /There has been an attack on the Main Hall. There has been casualties, from Humans to Dragons. The attackers are from Fort./ Fort? What the Shards did they want? Selenitas held no major qualms in the way of fighting toward that Weyr, so why the sudden attack? /They have captured and are holding hostages in the Main Hall./ Have they made any demands? /No not ye-/ She felt Millieth cut off. It was what she felt when the Queen rapidly shifted mental attention onto something else. Groaning, Kaegan spun around before heading over to her nightstand. Opening it, the Weyrwoman was about to withdraw a boot-knife when her Queen spoke again.

/Vidorelth of K'zorn has bespoke me. These are the demands that he has relayed. They wish to speak with you and Gareth's peacefully at the main hall, you must arrive within a candle mark or they will start killing off hostages. You are not to bring a fighting wing. If we cooperate, no harm will come to the Hall./ And... and K'roi knows this as well? /By now yes. He addressed Gareth as well./ Crouching down, she tucked the knife into her boot with a nervous frown. She wasn't about to trust a person about the 'peacefulness' of the proceedings, especially not one who had just killed some of her Riders and Staff. She was going to be careful, and plan this out. But she had to hurry. If she could prevent more lives being lost, she would. Millieth, contact Gareth please. Tell him to tell K'roi, if he is going to bring weapons, have them fully concealed. We will meet with this K'zorn. Looking up as her Gold touched down on their Weyrledge, Kaegan stood with a heavy sigh. Great Faranath, she was nervous... frightened, and enraged all at the same time. Grabbing her Riding leathers, the Weyrwoman shakily made her way over to Millieth.

----

Ducking his head behind his arms as Rusahre growled, Nautic plucked enough courage to peek out from behind them a few moments later. "I kinda got that they were the Delta wing." He had been wondering if the Wing held any particular Rank in the Fort Fighting force. But he decided to not pursue the question farther, instead he turned around to the person who had spoken to him before. He offered the female candidate a small smile before responding. "Apparently we're hostages. But don't worry my lovely, I believe in the Weyrleaders. They'll get us through without any more deaths." I hope. I really, really hope. His actual confidence in the abilities of the Ranking Leaders was far more shaky than he was leading on. But for his nerves and the nerves of the people around him, he did his best to believe in what he was saying.

Turning to Merridan as she approached, he offered her the same smile she had given to Anusha. "Fine. As fine as we all will hopefully be." His voice was hardly above a whisper. "Tell you the truth, Emoyan is more frightening than these guys." The word lie, was written all over his face, but he tried to ignore it. "I mean, think about what he'll say." Deepening his whisper, Nautic continued. "See. This is what trying to skip curfew gets! Trouble. If you all delinquents had been in your beds, you wouldn't have been involved at all! I am ashamed of you, blahblahblah." He was nervous, and because he was nervous he turned to humor. It was a tense situation, and he wanted no more than to be out of it. As long as they were stuck there, he might as well try and keep everyone calm. Especially Rusa, who looked as if he had been ready to kill someone when he had come skittering over.

Speaking of that young man, Nautic turned from the girls and back to him, resisting the urge to comment on how touching his urging was. Instead, he turned to more humor. Prodding him in the arm gently, the wher candidate spoke up again. "Don't worry Rusa." He paused. "I'll just hide behind you the entire time."

[hseru]

Not again, not again! He’d been spending the last few daylight hours checking over the infirmary’s progress when the alarm call came, and a soft keening filled his mind as Gareth mournfully passed on the news that they’d lost yet more dragons and riders to a new invasion, a fighting wing full of pale dragons. He felt the blood rush to his face in a wall of anger, and reaching blindly, an empty shelf met its demise as he pulled it over in a fury, the wood snapping in a strangely calming way as it crashed to the ground, startling the few people still at work. Maybe it sounded close enough to the snapping he wanted to do. Benden, it had to be. They were back to take another crack at wiping Selenitas off the map.

He was shocked cold when Gareth bespoke him again, icy tendrils of disbelief running through him. It’s not Benden, Mine. It’s Fort. One of theirs, Vidorelth of K’zorn, has bespoken me with their terms. They wish to speak to you and Millieth’s at the Main Hall peacefully. They say that they’re in control of the Main Hall, and that if the two of you do not appear within half a candlemark, they will start killing those within. He added that you are not to bring a fighting wing, or everyone will die. If you cooperate, they won’t harm those within.[/i] Yes, but for how long? If something’s pushed Fort this far then they’re not likely going to relinquish their hold if we give them the wrong answer. K’roi paced over to the dragonledge, his gaze going upstream to catch sight of the Fort Wing. He rolled his shoulders in preparation. There was no use for it, he’d have to go. And Kaegan? Millieth’s knows, yes. She has sent that if you carry weapons, keep them concealed. K’roi smiled grimly. Looking down at the knife at his belt, he removed it and tucked it into his boot, tying the sheath around his ankle to keep it there and fluffing his pants over to conceal it. It would be a bit more difficult to retrieve it, but he had another, much smaller blade hidden at the small of his back. The previous attack had taught them all to be prepared, and wary. He ignored the people now whispering in frightened voices behind him at the alarm and his display of anger. They scattered when he turned an even glare behind him, scanning the incomplete infirmary to see if there was anything else he wanted to bring along.

Gareth winged in low from the canyon, alighting upon the ledge. Luckily, K’roi had opted to keep the bronze’s flying straps on instead of leave them in their weyr as he was often wont to do. It wouldn’t do to be in a possible aerial battle without them. Gar, keep an eye out for Millieth and the dragons that surround her. This could be a ploy to kill the senior queen. The bronze snorted out a snarl; they’d have to go through him first. K’roi gave his shoulder a slap, his mind whirling with possibilities. Why was Fort here, and why were they killing people? They’d never attacked before, what was different now? Vaulting up to the bronze’s back, K’roi was too worried about the implications to really create that edge of anger again. Probably a good thing, as it left him with a clear head.

[Rowana]

Roivao frowned deeply. Somehow K'zorn's explanation of why they were hear did not sit well with him. He could not remember looking for "missing riders" before. No one had every come looking for him. Not that he probably would have recognized them if they had. Still, he didn't think the Wingleader would lie either. He just wasn't that type of man. Roivao only knew Delta Wing and its leader by reputation and in passing, so he could not be sure. The only thing they could do now was wait until Kaegan and K'roi arrived. He had no doubt they would come. He was just afraid of what would happen when they did.

Roisk heard Rozsk call and he went to her, slipping through the trees like a bronze ghost. He stood by her side, protective both of her and their mind mates trapped inside. He knew they could do nothing for the moment. But when the time came, he was ready. These riders would regret threatening their bondeds.

Merridan's face was set with determination. "You don't have to worry about me," she told Rusa firmly. "I can take care of myself." She glanced down at her dagger meaningfully. Any rider who came close to her or any of her friends would have to face her blade first. She was much more worried about Nausi and Anusha. She was fairly sure Rusa could hold his own. She only had to look at how he carried himself to know that. The other two she wasn't sure.

She smiled briefly at Nausi's imitation of Emoyan. They were really going to get it once this was over. Just her luck to, to be caught on the one night she ventured out. Rather ironic really, that all four of them were up beyond curfew tonight of all nights. Their Candidate Master was not going to be happy, to put it mildly. She hoped his punishments wouldn't go so far as to bane them from standing. Though if things turned bad, being left out of the hatching would be the least of their worries.