Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series)

Rykhan

Book 1 of Mate Search
Series

Full Novel based on
Mate Search˗˗First Contact
novella (included in
Love Without
Boundaries
anthology)

By

J. A. Hornbuckle

*.*.*.*.*

Copyright © 2015 by J.A. Hornbuckle

*.*.*.*.*

Cover Design by: Brandi Doane
McCann

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this novel with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, then please buy an additional copy for
each recipient.

No part of this text may be reproduced,
transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored
in or introduced into any information story and retrieval system,
in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical now
known or hereinafter invented, without the express written
permission of J.A. Hornbuckle or her authorized
representatives.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

This is a work of fiction and is not a
reflection or representation of any person living or dead. Any
similarity is of pure coincidence.

Although, if you recognize yourself in any
character represented, maybe we need to talk…

EPub Edition: June 2015

ISBN: 9780996510707

Chapter One

“This is not something the
Casticians are prepared to engage in,” the melodious yet formal
voice of R’arant Medt Shamar stated firmly, coming from deep within
the hood that hung over his face. In the five
yons
that Bronsyn had held his
council seat, he had never seen the other man’s
features.

“But…” Gwynt Stege, seated to Bronsyn’s right
at the council table, stuttered.

“Nor are the United People of Ater!”
Comrade Koronyk shouted, overriding Gwynt’s voice. His fist hit the
rounded slice of
Orax
horn that served as a tabletop with a muted thud giving
emphasis to his already emphatic words.

Bronsyn sighed and glanced at the
other three men seated around the circular table, designed so no
one council member held any more or any less importance than the
others, even if only by the placement of their chair. “So what you
are saying is that this endeavor will be funded not by the Picari
Alliance but by Galaxia and Nutrol alone.”

“Absolutely, Council-brother Llent.” R’arant
shifted, drawing his long, four-jointed fingers up into the belled
sleeves of his robe. Bronsyn knew the Casticians were bi-pedaled
humanoids, but outside a few brief glimpses of very pale fingers,
he had never discovered if their appearance was similar to his
own.

Not that it would matter since the
Picari Alliance council was comprised of representatives of the
only four inhabited planets within their solar system. All four
planets were to be present, to have a vote on every issue affecting
their collective worlds according to their two thousand
yon
old
charter.

“Ater agrees with Castic.” Comrade Koronyk’s
voice was loud in the room, but then the Aterian’s voice was always
a few decibels louder than the other members. “This is a problem
for Galaxia and Nutrol which means the proposed solution absolutely
should not be paid for out of the Alliance coffers.”

Bronsyn opened his mouth to speak
but Gwynt beat him to it. “With all due respect, I wouldn’t call
the decimation of the populaces of two planets simply a ‘problem’.”
Bronsyn glanced at Gwynt, Nutrol’s appointment to the Alliance
council and noted the man seemed calm. That was until he saw the
other man’s fists tightly clenched around one another in a white
knuckled grip. “According to our scientists, the Galaxians and the
Nutrolites are but a few
yons
from extinction due to the Xion gas released from
the trail of the Sarbon Comet.”

Bronsyn took in the postures of both
R’arant and Comrade Koronyk’s seated stances. While the Aterian
comrade’s crossed arms and scowl gave evidence of his resolution in
not approving the mission, the Castician’s representative was
harder to read, due to his billowing robe, until he spoke. “That
was over twenty-five
yons
ago. Sufficient time for your touted
scientists
to have found
a cure, according to the Benevolent Ruler and Supreme Instructor,
Ismat d’Mert Qiztar.”

“May blessings be upon him and his world,”
Bronsyn muttered in unison with the other men in supplying the
rejoinder whenever anyone spoke the ruler of Castic’s name aloud.
R’arant’s almost but not quite sneer in the use of the word
‘scientists’ unsettled Bronsyn. He knew Castic was a planet ruled
by priests, their religion directing and dictating every moment of
their citizens lives. Surely, the Castic society had a group of
people dedicated to researching, understanding, and determining the
‘whys’ of their natural world.

“They haven’t,” Gwynt stated baldly.
“Our scientists still don’t know why the Xion gas only affected our
honored females, or why some of them expired into the ether while
the remaining were rendered infertile. What they do know is without
females, our numbers will dwindle until all remaining have gone on
to
Gyed’s
sacred
veil.” The redheaded man swallowed thickly. “This is estimated to
be in only fifty or sixty
yons
.”

Bronsyn could not detect a trace of sympathy in
two council members who had voted against them. Their proposal was
both simple and sound. It was a mission to travel to other star
systems in order to find suitable brides. And should have been easy
to approve, especially when those same worlds had declined to
provide viable mates to the planets in jeopardy. Bron tried to keep
his tone neutral but there was a dark undercurrent in his voice as
he spoke nonetheless. “It is that, fellow members, that will affect
us all since we know that our dependence on one another, in
supplying what our sister planets lack through trade and barter,
keeps all of us alive.”

Comrade Koronyk cleared his throat but did not
offer comment.

R’arant, one of the high priests on Castic and
its appointed representative to the council of the Picari Alliance,
did not keep his silence though. “If that is true, then it must be
the will of the Most High.”

Gwynt gasped and turned confused
eyes to Bronsyn. “They’re refusing to help and calling it
Gyed’s
will?”

Bronsyn was just as befuddled as
Gwynt, which he tried to convey with a shrug of his shoulders.
Three of the four inhabited worlds in their system were
monotheistic, believing in one supreme creator although they all
named it differently. He was surprised to note, each also
subscribed different premises on how their specific creator
operated. On Galaxia, thanks went to
Tsiran
who not only provided but also
protected. On Gwynt’s Nutrol, the goddess
Gyed
was the higher power responsible
for abundant harvests and the successful mating of their animals.
As far as Bronsyn knew, only the Aterites had no religion,
outlawing it hundreds of
yons
ago citing the worship of deities only spread
discord and discontentment among the masses.

“If that happens, then we will seed your
planets with our peoples and all will be continued.” Bronsyn felt a
flash of fury shoot through him at Koronyk’s harshly voiced
words.

“That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?
Since Galaxia is a world of manufacturing and technology,
industries that require a great degree of education and skill to
work, how do you propose to seed our planet and successfully
continue our processes?” Bronsyn sat back in his chair and crossed
his muscled arms over his broad chest as he skewered Koronyk with a
glare. “Because frankly, I don’t think you can.”

Gwynt was not far behind him in
tendering his objections as well. “All it would take is one season,
less than one
yon
,
and all the Nutrolian fields would run fallow. Without our people
providing both food and water to our herds, clutches and flocks,
they would die out as well. Are your people trained in farming, in
animal husbandry?”

“The Casticians have no need of your technology
or manufacturing,” R’arant replied smoothly. “And I’m sure we, of
all the people in the Alliance, can surely learn to grind through
the drudgery of Nutrol’s soil-based world.”

Bronsyn canted an eyebrow in disbelief at the
other man’s bravado. “I beg to differ. What happens when your
mining equipment falls into disrepair or needs replacing? Or when
one of the Galaxi built shuttles that ferries your mining crews to
Soida’s surface becomes inoperable?”

The priest’s hood turned to Koronyk and the two
representatives seemed to have a whispered conversation, although
their voices were too low to catch even a syllable of their speech.
Straightening, R’arant advised, “the Casticians will take Nutrol
and the United People of Ater will control Galaxia upon
confirmation that the last of your people have died.”

Shooting Gwynt a sideways look, Bronsyn caught
the tail end of his friend’s eye roll. This, to his mind, signaled
the end of the council meeting and perhaps the end of civilization,
as he knew it.

*.*.*.*.*

“What the
Frack
are they thinking?” Gwynt paced
Bronsyn’s spacious and opulent sitting room aboard the PA starship
cruiser,
Outbound
.
Since neither Ater nor Castic had the means to travel to
off-planet, it had been up to Bronsyn and Gwynt to journey beyond
the meteor cloud separating their worlds from the others. Luckily,
they only did it infrequently and only to attend the
quarter-
yon
council meetings.

Bronsyn halted as he refilled their
glasses with potent
Sansei
wine to glance at his friend. “I don’t think even
they know what their refusal will incur.”

Gwynt paused at the large porthole and stared
out. “Complete annihilation is what they’ve doomed us to. Better to
be overrun by the Isilks or even taken as booty by the pirating
Basules than for our races to die out.”

Coming to stand next to his old
friend, Bronsyn handed him the replenished glass before turning his
eyes to the deep blackness of space. The
Outbound’s
speed was such that the
stars appeared more as faint trails of light than solitary beads.
“I’d heard that the Casticians take issue with the pairing of two
males. It seems to be against their religion and, I believe, was
the reason for R’arant’s pronouncement.”

“But…” Gwynt sputtered. “What else are we to
do?”

Bronsyn had no answer for his
friend.

Gwynt stared into his glass. “How is a male on
male pairing wrong when we have no other options?” His
burnished-gold eyes appeared dull in the ambient light. “So, we’ve
no choice then.”

“None I can determine.”

Both men were silent as their eyes met in the
reflection of the porthole’s glass. “Galaxia will send the
drones?”

“Yes,” Bronsyn replied, bringing his glass to
his lips but not tasting the expensive alcohol. His mind was too
full of what needed to be done. “I will broadcast my
recommendations tonight and the eight drones will immediately be
dispatched to find inhabited planets. Hopefully they will report
back with findings of a humanoid species compatible to our
own.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing closer
to our system?” Gwynt’s high forehead furrowed. The death-sentence
both Galaxia and Nutrol had been given was unthinkable. “Six
merts
is a long time to
wait for news.”