Biosynth 17 Hatching

Come the hatching-day for the Genesis Two clutch, the emotions in Bravo Bay were less cheerful than they would have been for a more "everyday" clutch. Certainly there was none of the excitement that had marked Dr. Schroeder's behavior at the hatching of Genesis One. There was no smiling reflection upon "creation and beginnings and potential" this time, nor did the good doctor have a rallying speech to set things off.

There would be no semblance of ceremony this time around. Schroeder's anger had banked in the few months that had passed since he had first learned about the Fate-born Balespawn, not so much as to fade away, but enough to be supplanted by troubled preoccupation. His face was creased with worry, rather than laugh lines, as he made a circuit of the eggs while Devika finished verifying all the present candidates.

This clutch did not feel the same as Genesis One did, though that had nothing to do with the addition of crossbreeds and incarna essences. No, the difference was in that Schroeder had felt no guilt when he had first "bred" his yautjadragon species to counter the apparent rise in cruel, vicious beasts in the Nexus, but he worried about this new Purge strain. It seemed to Schroeder that crafting a strain to specifically counterbalance beasts as vile as the Balespawn was not the same as releasing a new breed to go where it willed and fight what it chose.

Genesis One had not felt like he was sending children to war. This, however, did.

A low, accented growl interrupted his thoughts. "Stop that."

Schroeder turned and found himself confronted by two scowling faces. Of course, yautja always seemed to be scowling, with their heavy brows, sunken eyes, and tusked mandibles. Rhakarndi and Dtande, clad in full hunting regalia with their masks tucked under their arms, stood nearby, towering over the stout little man. Beyond them, Schroeder could see the three firstborn of the clutch, scuffling excitedly as they waited for their siblings to hatch, proudly watched over by the three adult Venators who had called the Destiny home ever since their own hatching: Samurnde, Chetande, and Osende.

The two true yautja before him held none of Schroeder's misgivings. In the time that had passed since Genesis One, Rhakarndi had become proud enough of her line to claim them as her children and mark them with her name as well as her Blood Mark, and lively Dtande was quite enthusiastic towards his own new "offspring". Being warrior-bred and born themselves, they were confident that the youths of Genesis Two would excel at the Hunt before them. Schroeder was, to be honest, jealous of their confidence.

Rhakarndi continued, her accent well mangling the common tongue, but Schroeder was long familiar with her speech. "Keep pacing like that and you will dishonor us. Yourself as well. Have you no faith in your ability? In the strength of our bloodlines? In those of your dark spirit-friend?"

Schroeder sighed, running his hand over the nearest mottled eggshell. He could sense the mind within it, and the rest, lively and attentive. "It's been a long time since I thought like a warrior rather than a doctor. It's a grandfather's duty to worry about his descendants. Especially ones with so great a foe ahead of them."

As Rhakarndi scoffed, Dtande spoke. His accent was just as bad, though his tone was lighter. "With the weapons you have given them, it will be a Hunt that is all too simple. The green fire cannot burn them, the blood of the kainde amedha cannot scald them.... They will have it easy!" The smaller yautja barked something like a laugh.

"They will be fine." Rhakarndi nodded. "Even the halfbloods."

::We're not going to run out and get ourselves killed, you know,:: observed one of the eavesdropping eggs. ::We're not stupid.::

::Yeah, with two of them here on the station? I know where I'm staying. Who's with me?::

Schroeder had to tune the eager cheer of the younglings out, lest he totally forget there was supposed to be a hatching going on. It wasn't the first time the little minds had professed willingness and readiness to fight, just as it wasn't the first time Rhakarndi and Dtande (and the ship's three yautjadragons, at that) had chastised his doubt, but it would take more than words to alleviate Schroeder's concerns.

"There are timelines out there where the Balespawn are already grown to adulthood," he pointed out. "You saw what happened to Ontainde, and that beast which chased him was even here for a few moments. Here, on my ship. I believe I'm allowed a little worry."

Rhakarndi clacked her mandibles. "C'jit! I try to imagine how you would be worrying if these jehdin did not have the immunities you gave them, and I don't think I could stand it!" The speckled warrior slapped her hand on the egg nearest her. "All of you come out before this greying fool worries himself to death!"

So with Rhakarndi's cry did the eggs begin to hatch. Despite the three distinct bloodlines between the sub-clutches, there was no denying the hatchlings all descended from yautja. Those born of Chevonde and Lerlande still walked in raptorine stance and bore the tusked mandibles of the purebreds Dtande had "sired", each with a few pronounced traits that made them distinct from the pure strain. Lerlande's children most notably bore the tripled horns of her mate, while Chevonde's were rune-striped and partially transparent--not in the way that one could see their blood and organs within them, but that they seemed to be crafted of clouded glass.

Though the hatchlings were not announced in turn as those of Genesis One had been, there was still no squabbling over bonds. Each already knew his or her match, and there were plenty of candidates to choose from. Both those who had arrived from various reaches of the Nexus, and uniformed officers from the security forces of both the Destiny and Star City itself. (There was a rumor that went Star City would've liked to offer one of its own Bays for a secondary yautjadragon clutch, if only all five hadn't already been full!)

Bonds were met and matches were made. Despite their grandfather's sobriety, plenty of the hatchlings made their choices with enthusiasm, proud of their heritage, glad to finally meet their partners, and eager for the day when they would be grown enough to fight the evils in the world--be they Balespawn or far more mundane.

Afterwards, when all the newborns had been fed and the audience had dispersed, Dtande gathered "his" offspring and their new partner-bonds to him, with Schroeder and the ship's Venator trio looking on. Any of Chevonde's and Lerlande's get who tried to investigate were warded away by Rhakarndi with couched praise: "You are fine grandchildren to me, but this is only for those who are true of Dtande's line."

To those who were so true, Dtande spoke. "You jehdin already know of the kainde amedha chiva, the trial that these and others of Rhakarndi's line took." He indicated Samurnde and his siblings, who also proudly wore their battle-gear. Rarely, in fact, did they take it off. "In two of this ship's years you will be called back for the same. These three will call you, and if you answer, you will be put to the test.

"Now go. Strengthen yourselves and your bonds with your partners, and remember: two years!"