He needed to find shelter as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, his ship had already returned to the fleet for repairs. It, too, had been harmed upon landing. Not as severely as her pod, but it did get several strong hits from the Terrans, damaging systems.
Wrathin, however, knew this moon, and he knew the terrain. What may look like a thick jungle and plant life to many, to him held many secret, secure locations. Not far, caves would keep them sheltered for the night. In a few hours, the eclipse would dominate the sky, and after the Terran was well, they would determine a better course of action. Settlements were near for those who worked the moon for resources. Most chose to live on Sol 3, and travel to Sol-4 for assignments. The temporary housing would likely be more comfortable for them to rest in until the eclipse was over.
Their network remained unable to connect with Master System during eclipses. Their tech, based on that connection, left them isolated when the eclipses occurred.
He laid her down gently on the ground and then searched her ship for supplies. He couldn’t get over how delicate she felt to him. She almost seemed unreal. Like something from his imagination.
He shook off the strange thoughts. He needed to focus on his responsibilities, not on the attractiveness of his charge.
He dug around the escape pod and found several pieces of luggage that he hoped carried what she would need. His suit fashioned whatever he needed, so he knew he was prepared, but without built-in tech to fulfill her needs, he had no idea what she would need for survival. The bags, like her, were reasonably light, and he was able to hoist them over his shoulder.
After he scooped her back up, he started to traipse through the jungle toward the caves.
In the silence, he could hear the beats of the terrain. The calls of the lifeforms. The movement of the leaves and the water. Rhimodians came here to grow and study. To learn how to blend into environments and learn better nanite control.
He knew this moon better than most. He could see through the dense vegetation and fog in the air and still be able to detect an approaching predator.
Without his tech.
He knew the sounds.
It made him able to hear when things were not right.
Like now.
The usual living buzz in the jungle faded away.
He pulled the female against him and stopped. Her breathing was shallow as the tech did its work. Already the bleed had stopped on her forehead.
Good.
She was healing.
But she was still vulnerable.
Someone was out there. Wrathin glanced back and forth, looking for something. A reason for his certainty that there was danger ahead.
He got closer to a small outcropping of rock and laid the female on it and placed the cases near her.
As soon as he did, he could feel them.
Whoever they were, Wrathin and the woman were not alone.
He held out his hands.
Weapon. Blades.
The gauntlets started to glint, little sparks of light coming from the edges. Programming stirred, and in a combination of the nanites and the lysteel began to manufacture a set of short swords, one in each of his hands.
Some said they materialized out of nothing. That it was a magic trick the Rhimodians could do. Or inter-dimensional portal their race could access.
Wrathin knew better. They came from the tech. Though to someone not familiar with it, it could seem like they were made of nothingness. Liquid metal polymers and specialized currents created them.
Now, it was up to Wrathin to wield them.
He crept away from the woman, watching the area. He moved as quietly as possible. He couldn’t be sure who was out there, but he could tell they were there.
