New To Beven

Chapter 2

Richard Scott, the Ric, did not look overjoyed when Nate and I strolled into camp. The Guard crew probably spotted us on surveillance and notified our team leader that we we'd returned in multiplied numbers. Of course, he never showed much on his neutral face, except the rise of a clenching jaw muscle, which I couldn't get a good view of from here. Ric remained near the outskirts of our settlement, awaiting our approach from around the last bend.

The canyon walls surrounded our little village nicely, with a handful of narrow passageways branching off as exits for emergencies. The wind might howl above and the occasional boulder would tumble, but our facilities remained standing. Made of insulated vinyl, the off-white domes, dusted red by the breezes, squatted over near black roll-out mats, trimmed to exact lengths for the paths throughout the clustered shelters, labs, my elongated repair barn, and so forth.

I thrust out my chin and marched forward, past the bordering yucca plants, and through the sandy, dry air, scented with sage. The sharp scent filled my nose and recognition stirred. My body knew, even if my brain rebelled at times, that this was my new home.

But before I could reach the comfort of my home dome, there was the matter of introductions, to the man standing in the middle of the beaten mat path. 

Ric forwent the standard hood, choosing instead a short-brimmed hat that sat low over squinting brown eyes. He ground his back molars on a regular basis building those jumping jaw muscles, and his wide shoulders had pointed corners. With arms crossed and feet planted, he held himself as solid as any stone pillar, and moving less.

"Good," Ric barked, upon our final approach. "Our reinforcements have arrived."

"Your reinforcements?" intoned that smooth voice at my back. "Perhaps it's the other way around." Maybe smooth, but it leaned toward hissing feline side.

As the team leaders moved to face off, Nate and I shifted into reverse, staging a few meters back, nearer our domed shelters. The new arrivals spread out just shy of that last bend, as more of the village members joined my brother and me, eying the opposite line.

Bird Killer broke from that line and took position at Leigh's side, sunburst eyes holding steady even if his mouth slanted at a displeased angle. Head of Guard also meant second in command, but he wasn't happy taking his place. Our Guard head, Ruby, removed herself from our group and took her place at Ric's side. She stood a robust five foot three, short but sturdy. Her mouse brown eyes were forever calculating. Though I could swear I heard her speak once, pensive silence seemed her common tongue.

Said silence ensued.

Finally, Ric shifted his feet. "Welcome to City," he declared. The very basic name stated the mission's very simple intent, to establish a settlement on this planet for humans, as a backup to Earth, backup number seven to be exact, Beven. "Richard Scott."

Probably correctly termed the co-leader, the cat woman dipped her head. I got a good look from my new position, and time to absorb it, during these tense, careful introductions. Her face came to a point at her chin. There were those shrewd eyes cornering a square nose, in a hard face that topped off rounded shoulders with beefy arms under that animal hide cloak. Her stance stayed wide.

"Leigh Roman," she said and then scanned our village over Ric's shoulder. "It looks as though we both have stories to tell." She probably noted the absence of our larger transports and no doubt Ric did hers. Her team was coming up far shorter, though. 

"Indeed," he lifted a thumb from the crook of the other elbow toward her cloak.

"Per mission protocol," she began flatly. "We must discuss threats in our environment."