Page 42 of The Warrior's Oath
“It is where the downed vessels are, so yes.”
Nyota felt her face flush. “A real chance at recapture, if not a brutal death, and you want us to just go traipsing in there, wandering about the forest?”
“We will not be wandering. We will have a map.”
“Screw the map! We should get aride. I mean, if we’re doing this, I meanreallydoing this, then fly us in fast and get us close. At least then we’ll stand a chance.”
Minnix shook his head. “I am truly sorry, but the magistrate was quite clear. We are to abide by the perimeter set by our military advisers. I wish I could do more to help, but I’m afraid her decision was final.”
Nyota began pacing, a knot of anger in her belly. There were humans out there. Possibly the very same people she called friends during their short imprisonment aboard the Raxxian ship. And if that was the case, every hour counted. And here they were, being forced to march into the lion’s den on foot, and from a distance no less.
Korvin glanced at her. She could see in his eyes that he sympathized with her frustration. His friend was out there too. His general. And every delay hurt his odds of finding who he sought just as much as hers.
Nyota forced herself to take a deep breath, then another.
“I’m sorry I blew up,” she said calmly. “We really do appreciate all you’ve done for us.”
“And I sincerely wish I could help you further.”
“No, that’s okay,” she said, a look of hard resolve sliding across her face. “We’ll do this ourselves.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Nyota slept fitfully at best, visions of Raxxians and worse running through her mind, pulling her from any hope of a restful slumber.
Am I really doing this?she asked herself lying awake in the dark of night?I mean, I’m no soldier. I could just stay in Molok.
A flare of discomfort twinged in her chest, radiating to her limbs. The new tattoos were unusual in their healing process, and this wasn’t the first time she’d experienced a weird feeling since receiving the living pigment.
Whatever the cause, the irksome sensation pulled her from her ponderous, depressive state, setting her sights back on what really mattered. Staying close to Korvin and finding the other human survivors. It was a very real possibility she would never see home again, and she’d be damned if she didn’t do everything she could to ensure she wasn’t the only human living wherever the hell they were in the galaxy.
“Well, looks like sleep isn’t an option,” she grumbled, rolling out of bed after only a few hours rest.
She activated the dimmest lighting setting and took what would likely be her last hot shower for some time, then slowly clothed herself in the light but protective attire Korvin had acquired for their trek.
It felt far too thin, not remotely sufficient for their needs, both against poking thorns and uncomfortable weather. But Korvin had assured her it was far more robust than it appeared.
“Costly, but worth the expenditure,” he had said before explaining the function of the material.
It made sense, she supposed. Where her kind were still infants in the galactic sense, struggling to simply make it into space without freezing, burning up, or exploding, these cultures were hundreds if not thousands of years more advanced. As such, it was only natural they would have developed materials that could insulate and regulate temperature without requiring the sheer bulk of a clunky Earth space suit.
And if there was Kevlar and other types of flexible, protective fabric back home, it stood to reason that whatever these people had developed would be lighter, thinner, and more flexible than anything she could imagine. And as it turned out, while that was the case if you had money, most common citizens wore relatively regular materials akin to what one would find back on Earth in their daily clothing.
It seemed that just like anywhere else in the world, while the good stuff existed, it came at a price.
Fortunately, with the sizable haul from their salvage trade, along with friends in high places, Korvin had acquired them a respectable and lightweight kit for their needs.
Nyota looked at herself in the mirror projection, admiring the fit of her pants.
“Damn, I need to get another pair of these. They make my ass lookfantastic,” she said with a grin, moving around, enjoying the stretch to the fabric that seemed to hug and lift in all the right places.
She gave her outfit one last look then took a seat, sliding her feet into her new trekking boots. They weren’t actually boots, though. At least not in the normal sense. These were entirely alien in design.
Nyota stepped down on the wide open footbed, the pressure making the sides all fold upward around her foot to just above her ankle. The material then quickly shifted and forced itself into a snug but comfortable unit supporting her quite nicely.
They were not overly supple in feel, but had flex in all the right places, just right for hiking. The boots were designed to protect from rocks and whatnot while also supporting the foot and ankle, the fastening mechanism automatically detecting the species and shape of the wearer’s foot and adjusting the boot’s shape to best accommodate them. No laces, no half sizes not quite fitting right and cutting off circulation. These boots fit like a glove, albeit for the feet.
Nyota rose and took a few steps.
