Post by Charlotte on Mar 21, 2019 15:16:05 GMT -5
As monotonous as travel had been before, thus it was now.
Almost.
Shadows loomed ahead; the lumbering creatures, outlines indistinct at times when the diffuse yellow light picked them out in their red clouds. Shadows loomed above: boulders among the pebbles and suspended dust, growing larger over time until there was an entire hour in which the slow-moving speeder was in the shadow of several of them of massive size somewhere above them.
Jeryndi's inspection of the body in the back showed that it belonged to a still-living person. It would take no thoroughness to realize that the man's lower left leg was broken, had been bound up--splinted tightly--around the outside of his pantsleg and then wrapped further... perhaps in an attempt to ward off the dust. The man did not stir.
They were led through the dust for three hours. Nothing at all compared to the journey they'd undertaken on the whole, but with Solomon in his current state who knew how the time felt?
That they neared their guides' destination was first announced by the fact that the land ceased to be flat. The big crocodilian-shaped creatures seemed at first to rise up into the air and disappear, but the speeder chewed the ground and tipped back and did the same thing, following a slope up, a sharper descent back down, then another longer slope up, this one broken up into jagged-edged shards, then another shorter descent. This pattern followed over and over again, giving the distinct impression of gained altitude each time despite the small dips.
The creatures bunched up and disappeared into shadow.
They'd gone through a cleft.
One returned to wave encouragement to the speeder: Medren should follow them on through, though the speeder was overloaded and the cleft was narrow.
The speeder was, in fact, too big, but this only became clear after they'd traveled with shocked rock walls coated in Red to either side of them for ten minutes.
It was all right. They had apparently arrived.
Figures indistinct with wrappings, suits, and partial armor approached cautiously, but in the end the directions were gestured and unambiguous: They could carry the limp man, and they'd let Ava and Jeryndi take Solomon, but all of them were going further in, where the shadows were barely pushed back by glowrods, and where a sharp-edged cave awaited them with obvious signs of a bedraggled camp all around.
There was even a human being, bold as could be, in there without a facemask of any kind, stained red--hair and skin alike--and rasping through her ruddy teeth, but plain as day.
There was some discussion. Inaudible due to the rushing in the travelers' ears, but it was clear their guides (hosts?) could hear each other.
Once they were all inside, the hands came in to get their suits open. Some weapons around, but only half-heartedly aimed if they were in hand at all. Gestures insisted that the suits come off. The travelers were shown repeatedly little balloon-like jelly things. Then one of their guides took off his own mask and unwrapped, and tipped his head back to demonstrate squeezing the small sack into his mouth. Red stuff squirted into his mouth.
He smiled as if to say Yum.
Unconvincing, but it certainly might have seemed like the travelers weren't about to be given any choice.
The limp man could not protest, and while there was some heated discussion of some kind over him, near a slab of rock where he'd been laid out no less than three of the gel-things were squeezed into his mouth once they'd exposed his face. Not all at once.
They'd given him one, and watched his face. Checked his eyes. Opened his mouth to make sure he'd swallowed. Then they'd given him a second one. The same again. Some kind of argument or debate happened, probably loudly judging from the sharpness of the gestures, and only after fierce challenge was a third produced and offered to the limp man.
Afterwards, he moved his good leg and was swiftly blocked from view by those tending him.
Through the ride, Solomon would remain as unresponsive as the limp man that rode with them. Once there, he'd be just as unresponsive but breathing, in the least, was a bit easier. His lungs were slowly drifting away from being the dead weight inside his chest that they had become. If his companions followed the beckoning of their guides, and left the speeder behind once the cave was reached, taking Sol with them, he'd still be dragging his feet. The world around him had changed. He didn't feel like he was flying, or falling, or anything of that nature. There was a hint at the edge of his mind that his body was still solid, an improvement over feeling like a leaf on the wind to be sure. There was still no real control over his form, no real sense of what it meant to actually -move-, or exist. He still couldn't see beyond the cloud that covered his vision, and his ears still rushed with a sound only he could hear. The song in his head was still as loud as it had been. If his friends allowed it, and his suit was removed, what their hosts would see would depend on just what Ava and Jeryndi did with him while they tended to his wound. If they left his shirt on, as covered in dust and blood as it had become, he'd be wearing something that had once been gray over his upper body, the shirt made of a material light in weight and easily worn under a suit like the one he had been in. His pants were black, and his boots well worn. If his friends had removed the offending garment he'd worn on his upper body due to the dirt and blood, then his scars would be immediately apparent as they criss-crossed over his skin, as would the mythosaur tattoo on his upper right arm. Added to these would be the apparent efforts Ava and Jeryndi had gone to in order to clean and treat the slit in his skin running up his side behind his left arm.
Jeryndi had been exhausted by the time they'd gotten done with Solomon... They'd had to cut their supplies down to a quarter of what it had been. And they'd had to ditch the shelters. Now... It was only a literal handful of envirosuits spread out between storage in the speeder and their packs. Now... That speeder was hellaciously cramped with 3 packs and 5 bodies, two of them laid out amongst the seats... Packs had been maneuvered so that there was one per seat. He'd insisted Ava go to thr front and he'd stay in the back with their guest, lest he wake. Ava and medren on the front of 3 rows, Sol in the middle, Jeryndi and their guest in the back.
Among all of those supplies, they had used quite a bit of their decontamination supplies. They were all covered in red dust. So it had taken time to clean gloved hands so they could clean/decontaminate Sol. Clean the gloves. Pull off the suit a little at a time. Rebreather on. Clean gloves. Clean the body. Clean and dress the wound. Fully seal him back up inside the new one... By then, there was a pile of trash and supplies in the seat next to their unconscious fifth man. But Solomon under that suit was as clean and as Red free as he was gonna get.
There was no judgement on Jeryndi's part ad he took care of his cousin... Scars didn't bother him. Nor did tattoos... Once upon a time, he'd had a fuck ton of scars, tattoos, and piercings... But not after his rebirth. Now there was not a single blemish that marred his body, inside or out. He'd taken really good care of himself and had gone to great lengths not to get into fights. It was always foolish to judge someone by their body-- the care of which it'd been taken or lack thereof. Their scars told a story, but rarely had a happy ending. Unfortunately, that's just how it was.
The travel across the flat landscape had lulled him into a kind of fatigued meditation... Eyes were closed, but he was awake. Though, to be honest, it might not have looked like it... The gentle incline the first time seemed to jar him awake, because he sat up and looked around for the first time in probably an hour.
Ava assisted Jeryndi in Solomon’s care.
And when they’d finished, she turned back in her seat to face the front. There wasn’t much to do from here. All verbal communication was impossible with the continuous buzzing ring in their ears. For a moment, Ava considered the meld but… with Solomon unconscious and her barely knowing if Jeryndi had that sort of a hold on his abilities… she hesitated with the idea.
So instead the Jedi Knight’s eyes closed.
She meditated.
For the entire three hour journey, Ava meditated. Sometimes she sensed for the peculiar mark she’d left – an act performed in another lifetime, it seemed like. Checking to see if their course was taking them further or closer. But, for the most part, it was of peace and calm. She reached out for a deep inner connection that had not been touched in days. Soon the buzzing in her ear was no longer noticeable. And within time, that three hour trek came to an end.
Her eyes opened as the red walls of the chasm almost seemed to close in around their speeder. A quick glance went towards the inhabitants of their transport, taking silent headcount and brief assessments, before turning her head forward once more. The human being – red tinted hair and skin was noted.
They came to a stop and it wasn’t long before Ava opened her door to step out. So far, they had yet to show any signs of ill cause. A glance went back to Jeryndi and the others, wondering if they picked up on the silent message of “I’ll go first.”.
And then, with a deep and steadying breath, Ava opened the front of her suit revealing the top of a navy blue shirt. She held her breath as her gloved hands reached further up. The hood was pulled back, messy brown hair finally becoming freed from the confined of the helmet.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Ava took a cautious breath of air.
When Ava did that, the head shakes were from everyone watching her, and there was a sudden rush toward her, two figures closest, trying to get her to stop--or slow down. One shoved the gel pod in her face. It looked rubbery even in the red haze that permeated even here; it might have come from some undersea plant or have been the cleaned organ of an animal.
They wanted her to open her mouth, were even reaching out as if they meant to make it happen manually. That last part didn't quite happen. Out of wariness or concern that it would make them appear hostile--impossible to tell--but their urgency was obvious.
The breath held.
All motion ceased the second their heads began to shake.
Ava waited for their instructions that lead to eating… drinking… consuming that jelly pod.
At first she looked cautious. There was no bother in hiding it. And then, Ava nodded her head in compliance. A gloved hand reached out to take the pod directly in front of her face. It went to her mouth as her fingers squeezed the sac until the red substance spilled past her lips and was drank down.
It was air temperature-cool liquid with a flat metallic, even dusty (not surprising) taste. A few ounces of it came out, and then a gloved hand was reaching to take the pod back. If Ava let that happen, she'd watch two figures crowd in to try to jiggle any stray droplets back into the capsule thing.
Ava would notice nothing different at first, but in the aftermath of her swallowing it the others were trying to get Jeryndi and Medren to take one, and would shoulder in to force one into Solomon if they could.
The few around the man who had been unconscious were still watching him. He'd stopped moving, but they'd relaxed from the level of urgent swiftness into mere tense alertness.
In all, there were seven people visible in the nook, and the nook--while covered--could not actually be rightly called a "cave." Nothing about its shape suggested long ages being carved out by water, or gouged out by wind-borne sand. Nor did it seem the result of a downward collapse or shattered strata. Instead, the knobby area resembled nothing so much as a wave atop a sea, frozen in a flash so that all the foamy fingers at the crest, and even droplets being flung upward, stilled and retained that impression of aborted motion.
The beasts were not visible; nor was the bigger rider. By size and by build, lumpy gear notwithstanding, those gathered here were all human or near-human.
What did it taste like...? Jeryndi wasn't sure he wanted to know... But they had some trust going for them. In that-- not once had he sensed ill intent from these people... They weren't going to knowingly harm them. And they seemed to be doing okay all things considered... Their urgency was felt though-- and though he gestured for a medren to wait, he took off his helmet and reached for the jelly blob thing to squeeze it into his mouth. It was a leap of faith to do it so swiftly and not giving doubt.
To those gathered around Sol, he waved them away and moved to stand beside his cousin... He'd give it to him if it proved to be okay.
They had the weapons.
They had the numbers.
They obviously felt rushed.
Somewhere out there, they had beasts with heads longer than a man was tall.
Even with all that, no fight happened. It wasn't as if being waved off was a move that made no sense.
So for long minutes... long, long minutes in the rushing of their own ears, Jeryndi and Ava would find themselves in a silent standoff, with their hosts just standing there and watching them.
The first shift came when after ten minutes of that red-tinted staredown, the man who'd been unconscious started moving in earnest, and the two people who'd been watching over him helped him to sit up. His gloved hands were weak, but seeking their arms, their shoulders, and there was no doubt--with his wince as his broken leg shifted, as he scooted to try to get a better position--that he had reanimated somehow.
For Ava and Jeryndi, on timetables individual to them but nearly the same, they'd first notice the rushing in their ears receding. That pulse and that ringing faded, until the murmuring voices of those on the ground with the other man could finally be made out.
They spoke Mando'a. Jeryndi knew it; Ava might recognize it. They were asking him how he felt, where he hurt. He was trying weakly to speak over them. He said he'd lost his daughter--his daughter--had they seen her? How were they alive?
In that quiet standoff, Ava said nothing. Her tongue rolled within her mouth as she could still feel the remnants of that metallic taste. Whatever they had given her was quite precious to them. She saw that with how gingerly they were to make sure every last drop of what remained in the pod stayed in the pod.
Then something began to change.
It was slow at first.
Ava had become so used to that constant buzzing that she didn’t immediately notice. Voices caused her ears to twitch at the new sound. Her head instinctively turned towards the small group crowded around the man. Eyes wide, she looked back at the ones before her.
Hesitantly her throat cleared. She tried to speak – truly speak for the first time in days.
“Hello?” Her throat felt cracked and dry. Unused.
The moment, the -second-, he felt a change... He nodded that it was okay for Medren to do it... Medren had waited with one of the jelly blob things in hand, waiting for that signal. Medren pulled off his helmet in a single Swift movement... There was a face a few of these people *might* know... It came with having the Mandalore as your father. For a long time, he'd been Ker'dan's son. Then kel'dan's. Then Jeryndi's... And being the son of Mandalore sometimes got news coverage or if they'd ever been to their offices or to the Akir estates... Maybe they recognized him, maybe they didn't... Medren had no hesitation at all to squeeze the jelly thing into his mouth. Even as Jeryndi did the same with Solomon. Tipping his head back to make sure he swallowed.
Looks exchanged. Enunciating carefully, after a quick exchange in Mando'a, the man nearest Ava asked in Basic: "Are you hurt? What's your name?"
Gloved hands waited, outstretched, to take the pods back.
By this time, one of the figures was saying in Mando'a: "Think that one's going to need more than one."
Meaning Solomon.
"We don't have enough left," another said.
"We'll get him awake and moving and then--"
"We don't have enough," the same one--a woman, by her voice--insisted.
"We gotta redo the count," said another--another woman, already pulling a bag from her shoulder. "Pile 'em up, people."
"That bastard got all of mine," said one of the figures near Ava--the red-stained woman. "Every fucking one."
"Where's the doc? He might have one or two. He doesn't seem to be guzzling them like we are."
With a small pile of the pods growing on a square of rough, half-shredded fabric, one of the pods was snapped subtly up and rushed over to be offered to Solomon as a follow-up before anyone could protest it.
For Medren and Solomon, it would take several minutes for anything to begin to recede back to normalcy, just as it had for Ava and Jeryndi. For Solomon, it might take longest of all, but chances were his clarity would return all the same.
In the cloudy not even nearly half-aware state he was in, he could feel it when the air around him changed. There was a wind that brushed across his skin, bringing tiny little bumps and raised hairs across his unprotected body. There was also now the sensation of pressure against the back of his throat and it came with the urge to swallow. The urge was followed, and whatever it was that slid down his throat was thicker than water, more gelatinous, but not stifling. He didn't choke on it, or the second sensation to swallow as more of the thick stuff was given to him.
"My name is Jedi Knight Ava Azalee. I am unhurt." It was weird hearing her voice again. Strange to know that when she spoke others could hear her.
"Who..." Her eyes glanced around to the surrounding people, specifically to Solomon, before back on the one who spoke basic.
"What is your name? Where are we?"
There was dust in the air. All those gathered around the travelers were speaking tightly and breathing shallowly, because inhaling through the mouth brought in Red--you could see it dance in and out and stir in the air around nostrils and mouths--creating the urge to cough or sneeze, irritating eyes, and--
"We talk fast, so you can get your suits back on," the man told Ava. He was watching her face with such sharp scrutiny despite watering, red-rimmed eyes, that it might have clued Ava in: they had taken off their own protections so they could read the faces of the newcomers. "I'm Breis Teimar; I'm in charge here. You need to answer me straight and quick: How did you get here? How is that speeder working? Is anyone else with you? Does Keldabe know we're here?"
Behind Breis, a shadowed, wrapped-up figure came around bearing gear that obviously was from their speeder. The figure held up something, caught the red-faced woman's attention, and she rushed over to inspect. It was a suit. She instantly started shifting her own clothes and shedding gear, fully intending to pull it on right then and there.
"It's just us that came. We left from the Aud in Keldabe after it was evacuated." Ava answered. "But there are others who know we are here. We came to find answers about what happened and to see if there were survivors."
Ava glanced towards the speeder and the woman now donning the suit.
"There were other transports but they died along the way. This was the only survivor. We had to swap out spare power supplies to keep it going."
Her eyes fell yet again on Solomon's form. There was a hesitance that crossed her face before she looked back at Breis and asked.
"Is there a Sadhric Tlin with you? Or, do you know of him?"
"What do you mean it's ‘just you’?" one of the Mandals behind Breis said, stepping in. Breis stopped her with an outstretched arm without even glancing at her. "Suit up," he ordered with a tilt of his head.
That tilt toward the woman was enough to make it clear who he meant, and she backed off and tugged her headgear in place once more as she turned away.
Lowering his arm, Breis rubbed at his face with a grubby hand, dark stains around each fingernail and caught in all the tiny hairs on the backs of his fingers, and tried to be orderly. "Okay," he breathed in exhaustion. "We're taking your gear and your speeder. We're rationing here; we'll pool our stuff with yours, but it belongs to Tal Ruus now." He flicked a look at her, then at Jeryndi, reluctantly ready for a fight. He moved on anyway, ready to deal with that in a moment if he had to. "That's where you are. Tal Ruus--’Tal-R.’ There are nine of us here, plus the doc." He glanced over past Solomon, to where the other man was answering questions in his own mini-interrogation. Back to Ava. "Of course we know the Mand'alor. But everybody's dead, here, but us. Dead or... whatever the hell happens when we drift off. We've got three dreamers stashed above us, but we can't wake them up. Two of them are ours. Were ours. One of them is something else."
There was movement where Sol lay. The cloud had receded from his vision, and the song had died within his head. The lullaby had disappeared note by note until the rushing faded and the world, such as it was around him, replaced it. He could feel his fingers, and his toes. He blinked at the red haze that floated above him, drew in a breath and immediately regretted it. It was no bubble he had woken himself up into, and the moment that cognition returned was the moment he realized that he was both laying on his back, and suffering from a splitting headache. Movement was.... He grabbed for whatever was nearest to him to try and pull himself up. He used his right hand, which slipped. His fingers felt dumb, and uncoordinated and he landed back against where he had laid. There were murmerings of Mando'a, and they mixed with basic and he had to listen to pick up certain words but over all it was all a jumble inside his head. He tried again, this time using his left hand which pulled something at his side, something that hurt when he stretched. It was in that same motion that his stomach turned causing him to swallow hard against everything inside. His throat felt coated, which didn't help the sensation. "Water," he barked, his voice louder than he had been expecting it to be, and that singular word was matched by its Mando'a partner, and followed by him sinking back against where he had laid with a quieter, "Please -- water."
Water was brought, a dusty little flask pressed to Solomon's lips. For the first time in days, the face above his was not Jeryndi's, Medren's, or Ava's. It was barely a face at all, in fact. Goggles, tinted dark, hugging over wrapped flightsuit material stripped from somewhere else.
This was it, the end of days! His friends had been replaced by half-mutant goggle wearing beings who had to hide themselves under wrappings due to the damage done by The Red! Or...no. He had stilled for a moment, looking up at that face, hidden as it was behind its wrappings. And then he drank just a little sip, enough to moisten his mouth and wash some of the slick feeling from his throat. He blinked, and lifted his left hand to lay against his forehead, flexing his fingers against just what he could reach of his temples with his hand placed the way it was. There had been people out there in the red with them -- the lizard riders -- Right? Had he imagined that? Was he imagining this, as well? "What happened?" He winced this time at the sound of his own voice. Inside his head he was shouting, and that only made the headache spike and drive the steel gurder it had come with straight down further into his brain.
Solomon wasn't alone... Medren was there, sitting with him. He hadn't said anything other than "su'cuy gar" after being able to speak and hear... But now he was sitting beside Solomon, offering him the faintest of smiles.
Jeryndi had been pacing back and forth as soon as his hearing had returned... "No," he said shaking his head. "You can ration everything but one suit. We need it for Sadhric if we find him," he said. He didn't speak Mando'a. At least, not fluently like Solomon or his son did, but he understood enough to follow conversations. That had been something medren had never known-- that his own father understood the language he griped in...not once had Jeryndi ever hinted at understanding a thing he said. Only after he made that, definitive statement did hr blink and look apologetic. "Sorry... Uh... I'm Jeryndi Trander." He gestured to Medren. "That's my son, Medren... I'm a friend of Kel'dan's.
"And Sadhric's."
-That- he heard. Jeryndi was close enough that when he spoke, Solomon could easily pick the words out among the other conversations happening in the little niche. He was switching gears, trying to pull himself up again with a loud "No! We'll share one fourth of water and food rations each, and we'll give you enough suits for your people --" however many that might have been "But the rest comes with us," His head was still raging against him, and with it went a tip and swirl of the world even as he reached a hand out toward Medren, "Help me up, kid." he said to the child during his struggle.
He didn't know who he was speaking to, or how many of them were there. The number was unfathomable at the moment anyway. What mattered was retaining some of what was -theirs- so their journey could continue.
Jeryndi turned to look at his cousin as Medren helped him up. "Sol, we don't have infinite supplies or suits... We have -three- suits left now after that one," he said, pointing to the woman who was pulling one on.
He took that, looked toward the woman who was pulling a suit on, and then focused on who Jeryndi and Ava had been speaking to, "Two suits to spare, and one fourth food and water rations. Everything else is ours."
"That's a negative," Breis Teimar said calmly from where he was, still crouched near Ava.
No one else spoke; several had turned to listen. The woman didn't even stop putting on her envirosuit, trading out comparatively terrible layers for something that actually would seal.
"No," he said, giving Solomon a side glance. "You didn't come out here to rescue people but -I- did." he glanced to Breis. "Even so. We -do- need to keep some of our supplies for our journey forward... Along with some information as to how you've survived here."
"They are no longer your supplies," Breis said with the patience of a big cat. His tone was not unkind. "Par ijaat, par aliit, par oyay. They are for everyone here now.
"Including you," he added, filthy eyebrows raising. "... but to be shared."
There were obvious marks on his face where his headgear had been recently tightly wrapped and tightly strapped, and he--like the newly suited woman--was stained all over with red in tones that ran dark all the way toward black from grit and ash mixed in. He had a flat, wide nose, small eyes made for smiling. Those eyes wanted to smile even now, while steady and uncompromising.
"Don't start," he said quickly to Jeryndi, lifting his left hand to point Jeryndi's way before he began sealing up his suit. Breathing in that red stuff with every word wasn't helping his head any. He turned back to Bries, "We will need a portion allocated to us, a good portion. We cannot stay, though we do thank you for the hospitality you have shown us." His words were in basic, and if only for consideration to Jeryndi and Ava, "For family, for honor, and for life," he said, echoing what Bries had just said to them, "We need to keep going, and we need these supplies. We are looking for people, like you, who need help out here, who need supplies just as badly as you do."
Medren was steadily walking up behind them, his helmet was already back on... "Udessi, gedet'ye," he said, looking to Solomon and then Breis. Jeryndi glanced at his son, but then back to Breis and said, "There is a hoversled about a day out, but it will be difficult to find... It has about 3 times as much supplies as we have here." He wasn't arguing against Sol, but offering knowledge of there being more where that came from... Though-- he doubted this man wanted to spare travel or his people for such a trip.
(Udessi, gedet'ye-- calm down, please)
Breis did not move. Did not rise. He didn't even turn his head, though his eyes did move to Ava, and then to Jeryndi, to Medren, and past them to the man who was now sitting up while his leg was tended.
In fact, unless one of the travelers spoke up, the silence from their hosts drew out.
Breis broke it in a quiet voice that flowed still with patience. Patience that someone of the man's size and frame surely did not have to possess to survive, yet there it was. "You," he said, "have no idea what hospitality we've shown you." He shook his head. "No idea the cost. And you, whoever you are, took twice as much as each of your friends, you were so far gone. Yet we gave." He twisted in place, planting a knee, more to indicate the careful bundling of the sad little pile of pods than to actually pivot far enough to see it himself. He looked back to Solomon and nodded to him. "Birov ganar ru'ash'amur, a ijaat cuyir oyayc." Many have died, but honor lives. He looked to Jeryndi, then to Ava also, only then rising to his full height at last.
The way they'd come in--the way Solomon had been carried--a darker shadow moved, materializing into a creature a full head taller than Breis, angular at the shoulders, humanoid in shape but with a tighter frame and limbs and double-kneed legs.
"Hey, doc," someone said before that someone pulled back on a helmet over layers of headwrappings.
Following the indication, Sol looked toward the little pile of pods. Whatever they were, the understanding was that they were important, perhaps even precious in a situation like this. "Ijaat cuyir oyayc," He breathed out though it bothered him to do so that deeply, and gave a small nod, "Your people know how to get back here once out in The Red?" He hadn't looked Medren's way when the boy came over, nor had he given a glance Jeryndi's way when the supplies were mentioned. He was trying to think around a building that was being built smack dab in the center of his mind, and he was trying to stay on his feet while that happened. He wasn't sure how well it was working, but since he hadn't fallen over yet it had to be going well!
(Honor lives.)
Jeryndi seemed calm on the exterior... And seemed to understand that these were not his people... He knew a lot about them. Once upon a time, he'd been offered a place among them. Once upon a time, he'd been offered a spot in the Akir clan... Maybe things would've turned out differently had he accepted. But there was no going back from any of this... Though he hadn't moved, he glanced at Sol. Not even a turn of the head, just a side glance... He focused back on Breis after a moment and said, "Vor entye." Thank you. Medren gave his father a look as if he'd been slapped. "I promise, no disrespect intended on my part..." He pointed to Solomon. "That's but one of dozens of questions we have, if you'll indulge us."
Almost.
Shadows loomed ahead; the lumbering creatures, outlines indistinct at times when the diffuse yellow light picked them out in their red clouds. Shadows loomed above: boulders among the pebbles and suspended dust, growing larger over time until there was an entire hour in which the slow-moving speeder was in the shadow of several of them of massive size somewhere above them.
Jeryndi's inspection of the body in the back showed that it belonged to a still-living person. It would take no thoroughness to realize that the man's lower left leg was broken, had been bound up--splinted tightly--around the outside of his pantsleg and then wrapped further... perhaps in an attempt to ward off the dust. The man did not stir.
They were led through the dust for three hours. Nothing at all compared to the journey they'd undertaken on the whole, but with Solomon in his current state who knew how the time felt?
That they neared their guides' destination was first announced by the fact that the land ceased to be flat. The big crocodilian-shaped creatures seemed at first to rise up into the air and disappear, but the speeder chewed the ground and tipped back and did the same thing, following a slope up, a sharper descent back down, then another longer slope up, this one broken up into jagged-edged shards, then another shorter descent. This pattern followed over and over again, giving the distinct impression of gained altitude each time despite the small dips.
The creatures bunched up and disappeared into shadow.
They'd gone through a cleft.
One returned to wave encouragement to the speeder: Medren should follow them on through, though the speeder was overloaded and the cleft was narrow.
The speeder was, in fact, too big, but this only became clear after they'd traveled with shocked rock walls coated in Red to either side of them for ten minutes.
It was all right. They had apparently arrived.
Figures indistinct with wrappings, suits, and partial armor approached cautiously, but in the end the directions were gestured and unambiguous: They could carry the limp man, and they'd let Ava and Jeryndi take Solomon, but all of them were going further in, where the shadows were barely pushed back by glowrods, and where a sharp-edged cave awaited them with obvious signs of a bedraggled camp all around.
There was even a human being, bold as could be, in there without a facemask of any kind, stained red--hair and skin alike--and rasping through her ruddy teeth, but plain as day.
There was some discussion. Inaudible due to the rushing in the travelers' ears, but it was clear their guides (hosts?) could hear each other.
Once they were all inside, the hands came in to get their suits open. Some weapons around, but only half-heartedly aimed if they were in hand at all. Gestures insisted that the suits come off. The travelers were shown repeatedly little balloon-like jelly things. Then one of their guides took off his own mask and unwrapped, and tipped his head back to demonstrate squeezing the small sack into his mouth. Red stuff squirted into his mouth.
He smiled as if to say Yum.
Unconvincing, but it certainly might have seemed like the travelers weren't about to be given any choice.
The limp man could not protest, and while there was some heated discussion of some kind over him, near a slab of rock where he'd been laid out no less than three of the gel-things were squeezed into his mouth once they'd exposed his face. Not all at once.
They'd given him one, and watched his face. Checked his eyes. Opened his mouth to make sure he'd swallowed. Then they'd given him a second one. The same again. Some kind of argument or debate happened, probably loudly judging from the sharpness of the gestures, and only after fierce challenge was a third produced and offered to the limp man.
Afterwards, he moved his good leg and was swiftly blocked from view by those tending him.
Through the ride, Solomon would remain as unresponsive as the limp man that rode with them. Once there, he'd be just as unresponsive but breathing, in the least, was a bit easier. His lungs were slowly drifting away from being the dead weight inside his chest that they had become. If his companions followed the beckoning of their guides, and left the speeder behind once the cave was reached, taking Sol with them, he'd still be dragging his feet. The world around him had changed. He didn't feel like he was flying, or falling, or anything of that nature. There was a hint at the edge of his mind that his body was still solid, an improvement over feeling like a leaf on the wind to be sure. There was still no real control over his form, no real sense of what it meant to actually -move-, or exist. He still couldn't see beyond the cloud that covered his vision, and his ears still rushed with a sound only he could hear. The song in his head was still as loud as it had been. If his friends allowed it, and his suit was removed, what their hosts would see would depend on just what Ava and Jeryndi did with him while they tended to his wound. If they left his shirt on, as covered in dust and blood as it had become, he'd be wearing something that had once been gray over his upper body, the shirt made of a material light in weight and easily worn under a suit like the one he had been in. His pants were black, and his boots well worn. If his friends had removed the offending garment he'd worn on his upper body due to the dirt and blood, then his scars would be immediately apparent as they criss-crossed over his skin, as would the mythosaur tattoo on his upper right arm. Added to these would be the apparent efforts Ava and Jeryndi had gone to in order to clean and treat the slit in his skin running up his side behind his left arm.
Jeryndi had been exhausted by the time they'd gotten done with Solomon... They'd had to cut their supplies down to a quarter of what it had been. And they'd had to ditch the shelters. Now... It was only a literal handful of envirosuits spread out between storage in the speeder and their packs. Now... That speeder was hellaciously cramped with 3 packs and 5 bodies, two of them laid out amongst the seats... Packs had been maneuvered so that there was one per seat. He'd insisted Ava go to thr front and he'd stay in the back with their guest, lest he wake. Ava and medren on the front of 3 rows, Sol in the middle, Jeryndi and their guest in the back.
Among all of those supplies, they had used quite a bit of their decontamination supplies. They were all covered in red dust. So it had taken time to clean gloved hands so they could clean/decontaminate Sol. Clean the gloves. Pull off the suit a little at a time. Rebreather on. Clean gloves. Clean the body. Clean and dress the wound. Fully seal him back up inside the new one... By then, there was a pile of trash and supplies in the seat next to their unconscious fifth man. But Solomon under that suit was as clean and as Red free as he was gonna get.
There was no judgement on Jeryndi's part ad he took care of his cousin... Scars didn't bother him. Nor did tattoos... Once upon a time, he'd had a fuck ton of scars, tattoos, and piercings... But not after his rebirth. Now there was not a single blemish that marred his body, inside or out. He'd taken really good care of himself and had gone to great lengths not to get into fights. It was always foolish to judge someone by their body-- the care of which it'd been taken or lack thereof. Their scars told a story, but rarely had a happy ending. Unfortunately, that's just how it was.
The travel across the flat landscape had lulled him into a kind of fatigued meditation... Eyes were closed, but he was awake. Though, to be honest, it might not have looked like it... The gentle incline the first time seemed to jar him awake, because he sat up and looked around for the first time in probably an hour.
Ava assisted Jeryndi in Solomon’s care.
And when they’d finished, she turned back in her seat to face the front. There wasn’t much to do from here. All verbal communication was impossible with the continuous buzzing ring in their ears. For a moment, Ava considered the meld but… with Solomon unconscious and her barely knowing if Jeryndi had that sort of a hold on his abilities… she hesitated with the idea.
So instead the Jedi Knight’s eyes closed.
She meditated.
For the entire three hour journey, Ava meditated. Sometimes she sensed for the peculiar mark she’d left – an act performed in another lifetime, it seemed like. Checking to see if their course was taking them further or closer. But, for the most part, it was of peace and calm. She reached out for a deep inner connection that had not been touched in days. Soon the buzzing in her ear was no longer noticeable. And within time, that three hour trek came to an end.
Her eyes opened as the red walls of the chasm almost seemed to close in around their speeder. A quick glance went towards the inhabitants of their transport, taking silent headcount and brief assessments, before turning her head forward once more. The human being – red tinted hair and skin was noted.
They came to a stop and it wasn’t long before Ava opened her door to step out. So far, they had yet to show any signs of ill cause. A glance went back to Jeryndi and the others, wondering if they picked up on the silent message of “I’ll go first.”.
And then, with a deep and steadying breath, Ava opened the front of her suit revealing the top of a navy blue shirt. She held her breath as her gloved hands reached further up. The hood was pulled back, messy brown hair finally becoming freed from the confined of the helmet.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Ava took a cautious breath of air.
When Ava did that, the head shakes were from everyone watching her, and there was a sudden rush toward her, two figures closest, trying to get her to stop--or slow down. One shoved the gel pod in her face. It looked rubbery even in the red haze that permeated even here; it might have come from some undersea plant or have been the cleaned organ of an animal.
They wanted her to open her mouth, were even reaching out as if they meant to make it happen manually. That last part didn't quite happen. Out of wariness or concern that it would make them appear hostile--impossible to tell--but their urgency was obvious.
The breath held.
All motion ceased the second their heads began to shake.
Ava waited for their instructions that lead to eating… drinking… consuming that jelly pod.
At first she looked cautious. There was no bother in hiding it. And then, Ava nodded her head in compliance. A gloved hand reached out to take the pod directly in front of her face. It went to her mouth as her fingers squeezed the sac until the red substance spilled past her lips and was drank down.
It was air temperature-cool liquid with a flat metallic, even dusty (not surprising) taste. A few ounces of it came out, and then a gloved hand was reaching to take the pod back. If Ava let that happen, she'd watch two figures crowd in to try to jiggle any stray droplets back into the capsule thing.
Ava would notice nothing different at first, but in the aftermath of her swallowing it the others were trying to get Jeryndi and Medren to take one, and would shoulder in to force one into Solomon if they could.
The few around the man who had been unconscious were still watching him. He'd stopped moving, but they'd relaxed from the level of urgent swiftness into mere tense alertness.
In all, there were seven people visible in the nook, and the nook--while covered--could not actually be rightly called a "cave." Nothing about its shape suggested long ages being carved out by water, or gouged out by wind-borne sand. Nor did it seem the result of a downward collapse or shattered strata. Instead, the knobby area resembled nothing so much as a wave atop a sea, frozen in a flash so that all the foamy fingers at the crest, and even droplets being flung upward, stilled and retained that impression of aborted motion.
The beasts were not visible; nor was the bigger rider. By size and by build, lumpy gear notwithstanding, those gathered here were all human or near-human.
What did it taste like...? Jeryndi wasn't sure he wanted to know... But they had some trust going for them. In that-- not once had he sensed ill intent from these people... They weren't going to knowingly harm them. And they seemed to be doing okay all things considered... Their urgency was felt though-- and though he gestured for a medren to wait, he took off his helmet and reached for the jelly blob thing to squeeze it into his mouth. It was a leap of faith to do it so swiftly and not giving doubt.
To those gathered around Sol, he waved them away and moved to stand beside his cousin... He'd give it to him if it proved to be okay.
They had the weapons.
They had the numbers.
They obviously felt rushed.
Somewhere out there, they had beasts with heads longer than a man was tall.
Even with all that, no fight happened. It wasn't as if being waved off was a move that made no sense.
So for long minutes... long, long minutes in the rushing of their own ears, Jeryndi and Ava would find themselves in a silent standoff, with their hosts just standing there and watching them.
The first shift came when after ten minutes of that red-tinted staredown, the man who'd been unconscious started moving in earnest, and the two people who'd been watching over him helped him to sit up. His gloved hands were weak, but seeking their arms, their shoulders, and there was no doubt--with his wince as his broken leg shifted, as he scooted to try to get a better position--that he had reanimated somehow.
For Ava and Jeryndi, on timetables individual to them but nearly the same, they'd first notice the rushing in their ears receding. That pulse and that ringing faded, until the murmuring voices of those on the ground with the other man could finally be made out.
They spoke Mando'a. Jeryndi knew it; Ava might recognize it. They were asking him how he felt, where he hurt. He was trying weakly to speak over them. He said he'd lost his daughter--his daughter--had they seen her? How were they alive?
In that quiet standoff, Ava said nothing. Her tongue rolled within her mouth as she could still feel the remnants of that metallic taste. Whatever they had given her was quite precious to them. She saw that with how gingerly they were to make sure every last drop of what remained in the pod stayed in the pod.
Then something began to change.
It was slow at first.
Ava had become so used to that constant buzzing that she didn’t immediately notice. Voices caused her ears to twitch at the new sound. Her head instinctively turned towards the small group crowded around the man. Eyes wide, she looked back at the ones before her.
Hesitantly her throat cleared. She tried to speak – truly speak for the first time in days.
“Hello?” Her throat felt cracked and dry. Unused.
The moment, the -second-, he felt a change... He nodded that it was okay for Medren to do it... Medren had waited with one of the jelly blob things in hand, waiting for that signal. Medren pulled off his helmet in a single Swift movement... There was a face a few of these people *might* know... It came with having the Mandalore as your father. For a long time, he'd been Ker'dan's son. Then kel'dan's. Then Jeryndi's... And being the son of Mandalore sometimes got news coverage or if they'd ever been to their offices or to the Akir estates... Maybe they recognized him, maybe they didn't... Medren had no hesitation at all to squeeze the jelly thing into his mouth. Even as Jeryndi did the same with Solomon. Tipping his head back to make sure he swallowed.
Looks exchanged. Enunciating carefully, after a quick exchange in Mando'a, the man nearest Ava asked in Basic: "Are you hurt? What's your name?"
Gloved hands waited, outstretched, to take the pods back.
By this time, one of the figures was saying in Mando'a: "Think that one's going to need more than one."
Meaning Solomon.
"We don't have enough left," another said.
"We'll get him awake and moving and then--"
"We don't have enough," the same one--a woman, by her voice--insisted.
"We gotta redo the count," said another--another woman, already pulling a bag from her shoulder. "Pile 'em up, people."
"That bastard got all of mine," said one of the figures near Ava--the red-stained woman. "Every fucking one."
"Where's the doc? He might have one or two. He doesn't seem to be guzzling them like we are."
With a small pile of the pods growing on a square of rough, half-shredded fabric, one of the pods was snapped subtly up and rushed over to be offered to Solomon as a follow-up before anyone could protest it.
For Medren and Solomon, it would take several minutes for anything to begin to recede back to normalcy, just as it had for Ava and Jeryndi. For Solomon, it might take longest of all, but chances were his clarity would return all the same.
In the cloudy not even nearly half-aware state he was in, he could feel it when the air around him changed. There was a wind that brushed across his skin, bringing tiny little bumps and raised hairs across his unprotected body. There was also now the sensation of pressure against the back of his throat and it came with the urge to swallow. The urge was followed, and whatever it was that slid down his throat was thicker than water, more gelatinous, but not stifling. He didn't choke on it, or the second sensation to swallow as more of the thick stuff was given to him.
"My name is Jedi Knight Ava Azalee. I am unhurt." It was weird hearing her voice again. Strange to know that when she spoke others could hear her.
"Who..." Her eyes glanced around to the surrounding people, specifically to Solomon, before back on the one who spoke basic.
"What is your name? Where are we?"
There was dust in the air. All those gathered around the travelers were speaking tightly and breathing shallowly, because inhaling through the mouth brought in Red--you could see it dance in and out and stir in the air around nostrils and mouths--creating the urge to cough or sneeze, irritating eyes, and--
"We talk fast, so you can get your suits back on," the man told Ava. He was watching her face with such sharp scrutiny despite watering, red-rimmed eyes, that it might have clued Ava in: they had taken off their own protections so they could read the faces of the newcomers. "I'm Breis Teimar; I'm in charge here. You need to answer me straight and quick: How did you get here? How is that speeder working? Is anyone else with you? Does Keldabe know we're here?"
Behind Breis, a shadowed, wrapped-up figure came around bearing gear that obviously was from their speeder. The figure held up something, caught the red-faced woman's attention, and she rushed over to inspect. It was a suit. She instantly started shifting her own clothes and shedding gear, fully intending to pull it on right then and there.
"It's just us that came. We left from the Aud in Keldabe after it was evacuated." Ava answered. "But there are others who know we are here. We came to find answers about what happened and to see if there were survivors."
Ava glanced towards the speeder and the woman now donning the suit.
"There were other transports but they died along the way. This was the only survivor. We had to swap out spare power supplies to keep it going."
Her eyes fell yet again on Solomon's form. There was a hesitance that crossed her face before she looked back at Breis and asked.
"Is there a Sadhric Tlin with you? Or, do you know of him?"
"What do you mean it's ‘just you’?" one of the Mandals behind Breis said, stepping in. Breis stopped her with an outstretched arm without even glancing at her. "Suit up," he ordered with a tilt of his head.
That tilt toward the woman was enough to make it clear who he meant, and she backed off and tugged her headgear in place once more as she turned away.
Lowering his arm, Breis rubbed at his face with a grubby hand, dark stains around each fingernail and caught in all the tiny hairs on the backs of his fingers, and tried to be orderly. "Okay," he breathed in exhaustion. "We're taking your gear and your speeder. We're rationing here; we'll pool our stuff with yours, but it belongs to Tal Ruus now." He flicked a look at her, then at Jeryndi, reluctantly ready for a fight. He moved on anyway, ready to deal with that in a moment if he had to. "That's where you are. Tal Ruus--’Tal-R.’ There are nine of us here, plus the doc." He glanced over past Solomon, to where the other man was answering questions in his own mini-interrogation. Back to Ava. "Of course we know the Mand'alor. But everybody's dead, here, but us. Dead or... whatever the hell happens when we drift off. We've got three dreamers stashed above us, but we can't wake them up. Two of them are ours. Were ours. One of them is something else."
There was movement where Sol lay. The cloud had receded from his vision, and the song had died within his head. The lullaby had disappeared note by note until the rushing faded and the world, such as it was around him, replaced it. He could feel his fingers, and his toes. He blinked at the red haze that floated above him, drew in a breath and immediately regretted it. It was no bubble he had woken himself up into, and the moment that cognition returned was the moment he realized that he was both laying on his back, and suffering from a splitting headache. Movement was.... He grabbed for whatever was nearest to him to try and pull himself up. He used his right hand, which slipped. His fingers felt dumb, and uncoordinated and he landed back against where he had laid. There were murmerings of Mando'a, and they mixed with basic and he had to listen to pick up certain words but over all it was all a jumble inside his head. He tried again, this time using his left hand which pulled something at his side, something that hurt when he stretched. It was in that same motion that his stomach turned causing him to swallow hard against everything inside. His throat felt coated, which didn't help the sensation. "Water," he barked, his voice louder than he had been expecting it to be, and that singular word was matched by its Mando'a partner, and followed by him sinking back against where he had laid with a quieter, "Please -- water."
Water was brought, a dusty little flask pressed to Solomon's lips. For the first time in days, the face above his was not Jeryndi's, Medren's, or Ava's. It was barely a face at all, in fact. Goggles, tinted dark, hugging over wrapped flightsuit material stripped from somewhere else.
This was it, the end of days! His friends had been replaced by half-mutant goggle wearing beings who had to hide themselves under wrappings due to the damage done by The Red! Or...no. He had stilled for a moment, looking up at that face, hidden as it was behind its wrappings. And then he drank just a little sip, enough to moisten his mouth and wash some of the slick feeling from his throat. He blinked, and lifted his left hand to lay against his forehead, flexing his fingers against just what he could reach of his temples with his hand placed the way it was. There had been people out there in the red with them -- the lizard riders -- Right? Had he imagined that? Was he imagining this, as well? "What happened?" He winced this time at the sound of his own voice. Inside his head he was shouting, and that only made the headache spike and drive the steel gurder it had come with straight down further into his brain.
Solomon wasn't alone... Medren was there, sitting with him. He hadn't said anything other than "su'cuy gar" after being able to speak and hear... But now he was sitting beside Solomon, offering him the faintest of smiles.
Jeryndi had been pacing back and forth as soon as his hearing had returned... "No," he said shaking his head. "You can ration everything but one suit. We need it for Sadhric if we find him," he said. He didn't speak Mando'a. At least, not fluently like Solomon or his son did, but he understood enough to follow conversations. That had been something medren had never known-- that his own father understood the language he griped in...not once had Jeryndi ever hinted at understanding a thing he said. Only after he made that, definitive statement did hr blink and look apologetic. "Sorry... Uh... I'm Jeryndi Trander." He gestured to Medren. "That's my son, Medren... I'm a friend of Kel'dan's.
"And Sadhric's."
-That- he heard. Jeryndi was close enough that when he spoke, Solomon could easily pick the words out among the other conversations happening in the little niche. He was switching gears, trying to pull himself up again with a loud "No! We'll share one fourth of water and food rations each, and we'll give you enough suits for your people --" however many that might have been "But the rest comes with us," His head was still raging against him, and with it went a tip and swirl of the world even as he reached a hand out toward Medren, "Help me up, kid." he said to the child during his struggle.
He didn't know who he was speaking to, or how many of them were there. The number was unfathomable at the moment anyway. What mattered was retaining some of what was -theirs- so their journey could continue.
Jeryndi turned to look at his cousin as Medren helped him up. "Sol, we don't have infinite supplies or suits... We have -three- suits left now after that one," he said, pointing to the woman who was pulling one on.
He took that, looked toward the woman who was pulling a suit on, and then focused on who Jeryndi and Ava had been speaking to, "Two suits to spare, and one fourth food and water rations. Everything else is ours."
"That's a negative," Breis Teimar said calmly from where he was, still crouched near Ava.
No one else spoke; several had turned to listen. The woman didn't even stop putting on her envirosuit, trading out comparatively terrible layers for something that actually would seal.
"No," he said, giving Solomon a side glance. "You didn't come out here to rescue people but -I- did." he glanced to Breis. "Even so. We -do- need to keep some of our supplies for our journey forward... Along with some information as to how you've survived here."
"They are no longer your supplies," Breis said with the patience of a big cat. His tone was not unkind. "Par ijaat, par aliit, par oyay. They are for everyone here now.
"Including you," he added, filthy eyebrows raising. "... but to be shared."
There were obvious marks on his face where his headgear had been recently tightly wrapped and tightly strapped, and he--like the newly suited woman--was stained all over with red in tones that ran dark all the way toward black from grit and ash mixed in. He had a flat, wide nose, small eyes made for smiling. Those eyes wanted to smile even now, while steady and uncompromising.
"Don't start," he said quickly to Jeryndi, lifting his left hand to point Jeryndi's way before he began sealing up his suit. Breathing in that red stuff with every word wasn't helping his head any. He turned back to Bries, "We will need a portion allocated to us, a good portion. We cannot stay, though we do thank you for the hospitality you have shown us." His words were in basic, and if only for consideration to Jeryndi and Ava, "For family, for honor, and for life," he said, echoing what Bries had just said to them, "We need to keep going, and we need these supplies. We are looking for people, like you, who need help out here, who need supplies just as badly as you do."
Medren was steadily walking up behind them, his helmet was already back on... "Udessi, gedet'ye," he said, looking to Solomon and then Breis. Jeryndi glanced at his son, but then back to Breis and said, "There is a hoversled about a day out, but it will be difficult to find... It has about 3 times as much supplies as we have here." He wasn't arguing against Sol, but offering knowledge of there being more where that came from... Though-- he doubted this man wanted to spare travel or his people for such a trip.
(Udessi, gedet'ye-- calm down, please)
Breis did not move. Did not rise. He didn't even turn his head, though his eyes did move to Ava, and then to Jeryndi, to Medren, and past them to the man who was now sitting up while his leg was tended.
In fact, unless one of the travelers spoke up, the silence from their hosts drew out.
Breis broke it in a quiet voice that flowed still with patience. Patience that someone of the man's size and frame surely did not have to possess to survive, yet there it was. "You," he said, "have no idea what hospitality we've shown you." He shook his head. "No idea the cost. And you, whoever you are, took twice as much as each of your friends, you were so far gone. Yet we gave." He twisted in place, planting a knee, more to indicate the careful bundling of the sad little pile of pods than to actually pivot far enough to see it himself. He looked back to Solomon and nodded to him. "Birov ganar ru'ash'amur, a ijaat cuyir oyayc." Many have died, but honor lives. He looked to Jeryndi, then to Ava also, only then rising to his full height at last.
The way they'd come in--the way Solomon had been carried--a darker shadow moved, materializing into a creature a full head taller than Breis, angular at the shoulders, humanoid in shape but with a tighter frame and limbs and double-kneed legs.
"Hey, doc," someone said before that someone pulled back on a helmet over layers of headwrappings.
Following the indication, Sol looked toward the little pile of pods. Whatever they were, the understanding was that they were important, perhaps even precious in a situation like this. "Ijaat cuyir oyayc," He breathed out though it bothered him to do so that deeply, and gave a small nod, "Your people know how to get back here once out in The Red?" He hadn't looked Medren's way when the boy came over, nor had he given a glance Jeryndi's way when the supplies were mentioned. He was trying to think around a building that was being built smack dab in the center of his mind, and he was trying to stay on his feet while that happened. He wasn't sure how well it was working, but since he hadn't fallen over yet it had to be going well!
(Honor lives.)
Jeryndi seemed calm on the exterior... And seemed to understand that these were not his people... He knew a lot about them. Once upon a time, he'd been offered a place among them. Once upon a time, he'd been offered a spot in the Akir clan... Maybe things would've turned out differently had he accepted. But there was no going back from any of this... Though he hadn't moved, he glanced at Sol. Not even a turn of the head, just a side glance... He focused back on Breis after a moment and said, "Vor entye." Thank you. Medren gave his father a look as if he'd been slapped. "I promise, no disrespect intended on my part..." He pointed to Solomon. "That's but one of dozens of questions we have, if you'll indulge us."