Muneo’s Ruin: Aftermath

[Dizzy]

(One Turn ago, 2506)

At the head of the council room’s large table, G’llahar set with his head in his hands. Dark circles were prominent under the light haired man’s eyes, and his clothes looked slept in. Gone was the illusion of the well kept Weyrleader, in its stead was a man balancing on a knife’s edge. ‘How could this happen? There has to be someone to blame for this… the sharding idiots should have had some warning.’ The Bronze rider massaged his temples, trying to ease the pressure there. “What are we to do? Almost a hundred dragons and riders lost. Fragging Shards of Faranth!”

“There isn’t much we can do, other than pick up the pieces.” Kyparla walked quietly in. The room seemed so cavernous with the Weyrleaders helpless angry words echoing throughout it. She felt so small, rubbing her hands over her arms she approached G’llahar. It was seldom she had ever seen the tall man so upset.

“Sorry my Lady. I didn’t realize you were here.” He made ready to rise, but the red haired woman motioned him to stay where he was. “No need for apologies or niceties today G’llahar, none of us are ourselves.” The Goldrider found her seat and pulled it out, thankful to rest her tried bones. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Do we have any good news Lady, if so, by all means please.” Resting an elbow on the sky broom table, G’llahar lend forward. “We need some good news.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t all that hopeful, but Zramuth and Mariska have both made it through the night without a fever.” Kyparla sighed, wishing she had better news and more of it. “The bad news, we’ve lost two more candidates. Out of the 325 support staff and candidates we sent to Muneo, we’ve lost at least 178. That's not including Sodalis' losses.”

[E]

After more than a good hour, the bronze rider had finally fallen asleep in the front arms of the bronze Malekith. It was a fitful sleep only making the bronze worry for his rider – rare for the bronze as the pair never seemed exceptionally close, and he rested his head but didn’t let himself fall back asleep yet, instead resting his multifaceted eye on his rider.

It was barely into the mid morning when E’mion let out a groan, rolling over and sitting up giving up on his restless sleep. The bronze raised his head, but said nothing as the man rubbed his side and stood doing the careful stretches that the healer had instructed him to do a few sevendays ago for an earlier wound hidden beneath his shirt.

Done, he ran his hand through his hair only to find dust falling. Growling, he shook his head vigorously before looking to the bronze.

Any news on anything? How is the rest of the wing fairing? How is the news on Mariska’s queen? And a bath now or later?
Not yet. Exhausted, but stable. She’s lived through the night. Later – you should sleep longer.
No, there is bound to be a meeting called sooner or later. I want to check on that burn on you again.
It does feel warm, but its not bothersome.
I’ll get you more numbweed, you shouldn’t feel the burning sensation it means it needs to be reapplied.
Oh, then you should do that.

Taking a look at the several small burns that had fallen upon the very tip of Malekith’s left wing, he decided that yes he could get more numbeweed for it. That – thank Faranth – was the only injury his dragon had taken, and the dragon didn’t think it serious enough to worry about which only reassured the rider. Others, however, had not been as fortunate…

[Dizzy]

G’llahar let out his breath slowly, “I see…” The Bronze rider slid his chair back, he could set still no longer. “Those are concrete numbers then? Have any of them turned up at Sodalis by chance?” ’I hope the search riders return soon… we need a full body count if possible. Get the bodies a civilized service instead of being devoured by animals.’

“Merda told me that Sodalis is still trying to sort things out as well, we won’t know how many of ours were transported there until at least into the middle of next Sevenday.” Kyparla watched the tall man stride back and forth, he looked older somehow. It seemed the weight of the Weyr was bearing down on him as well. “The Healers say there are still some sever burn cases that may not pull through, so no the numbers are not concrete. They are however concrete enough to release to the Weyr. Most of the dead were identified, there are still a lot of missing though.” The Gold rider knew just how bad it hurt to be the one looking.

“Well, lets get this over with Kyparla.” Phelanth, call the Wingleaders and Seconds. We’ve got to decide just how we are going to go about cleaning up this mess.

[Drache]

Phelanth calls all to the Council Room.

The golden voice crept quietly into Corra's mind as she sat on a stool, back leaning against a wall. She was in the infirmary taking a short break from helping to change bandages on the numerous burn victims, both human and dragon. It was a never-ending job and the Healers were taking all the help they could get. There were so many of them and some had not made it through the night and the Weyr was still at risk of losing more pairs. The Healers were especially concerned about Zramuth and Mariska.

Corra's hair was disheveled, her skirt stained with ointment, sweat, and blood and she had not slept much. Looking down at her hands folded in her lap, the Jr. Weyrwoman finally answered her gold. Let Kyparla know that I might run a little late. I need to get cleaned up and changed. Heaving herself off the stool, she let one of the Healers know she was leaving and then trudged outside to begin the walk to her weyr. Would you like some help? Nodding gratefully, Corra looked towards Eileith as she glided down to land near her. Corra was so tired.... Eileith was as well. The gold had spent all night calming down hysterical and injured dragons alike. Once her rider was aboard the gold lifted off to their weyr. As Corra slid down to go change upon their arrival, the gold spoke to Savath. Mine will be slightly late. She is cleaning up and getting changed. Let me know when the meeting starts so I may tell her.

[E]

E’mion walked out of the Infirmary in which he had run into L’nuo and spoke him as well as his brown wingsecond – the surviving one who was laid up in the infirmary due to a badly burned leg. It was when he walked out with a much smaller jar of numbweed than L’nuo that he questioned the man. Come to find out the brown had gotten a much worse burn, but was, for the most part, still doing well – at least compared to the rest.

The bronze who thinks he’s worthy of being a weyrleader wishes me to inform you that the meeting is called, all leaders and seconds are to report. What about our seconds? Can the brownrider even get out of bed?

No. He can’t. Said E’mion, half angry and half disappointed by it. Tell our second to remain where he is, I know he’ll try to attend. I’ll explain at the meeting. As an afterthought to the jar of numbweed in his hand, E’mion added, you’ll be fine till after?

I’m not a wherry, of course I will.

Nodding, the Helios Wingleader walked to the council room and into it alone. Every wingleader from Lateo had two wingseconds on either side – and every wingleader from Muneo had at least one. E’mion, in the same cloths he had worn yesterday through drills and then through the smoke, dust and hot coals stood alone.

One would see a man who looked half beaten, but then you noticed how firm his walk still remained, how quick his eyes were to challenge any who looked his way and you’d know instantly that he was still as formidable as he had been before the catastrophe when Helios was a full fighting wing and one not to be messed with.

[Dizzy]

Eileith says hers maybe late, she needs to clean some before showing. Wants to know shortly before the meeting starts. Savath’s message delivered, she returned to her silent vigil on Lateo, her mind still quietly tuned toward the injured Gold and rider.

The Weyrwoman made her hands busy by reviewing the notes sent up to her by her Headwoman. Supplies were beginning to run low, last night and this morning had wiped them out on some of the less commonly used burn salves. Sterile bandages were also in short supply. They would have to send some of the Weyrlings out to the nearby holds to ask for excess cloth. Candidates who hadn’t been pressed into service in the infirmary were going to have to make up shifts and start shredding cloth and boiling it. Thus Kyparla’s attention was kept off of sorrow for the time being as her mind calculated the more pressing needs of the lower caverns. She didn’t look up until several of the Wingleaders began arriving...

Let Corra know she needs to hurry. I know she’s been up all night in the infirmary, but we may need her and Eileith standing with us. Tempers are liable to be running high and hot.

Looking up G’llahar nodded at each of his Wingleaders and their seconds acknowledging their arrival, but when E’mion appeared a hard look coursed over the blond man’s handsome face. ’Arrogant son of a wher, How can he dare to look so affronted?’ Nervous, Kyparla turned from A’zon's greetings and glanced between the Weyrleader, the Helios Wingleader and the rest of the room. From the looks on many faces and they way they had fallen silent upon E’mion’s arrival it was easy to see they were looking for someone to blame for the Muneo Weyrleader’s death. J’mie, unlike E’mion had been very well liked among the Wings.

Let Corra know it would be a good time to get here, her arrival might diffuse some of the tension.

[Drache]

You’re needed in the Council Room. Now.

I’ll be right there. Eileith dutifully relayed the message and then curled up on her ledge for a well earned nap as Corra turned away from her mirror and walked out the door of her hut and across the plain of the Weyr to the newly created Council Room that was now located inside the actual Weyr. She finished putting her honey-blonde hair up into a bun on the way, sliding the last pin into place as she reached the Council Room’s door. Taking a deep breath to steady herself for what might be ahead, she pushed open the door and walked in. Her skirt swished playfully around her ankles, in complete contrast to the palpable tension and sadness that filled the room.

She walked to her seat beside Kyparla, softly greeting the riders she recognized as she passed them. She was not so familiar with the Wings that had been at Muneo for the past few years but had become familiar with one of the Desta Seconds recently. His bronze had been badly burned on one shoulder but was doing well. Taking her seat, Corra murmured a greeting to Kyparla, Ollandra, and G’llahar. She couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under their eyes that matched her own. She also couldn’t help but see the glare that Kyparla was furtively aiming at one of the Wingleaders. Hoping to diffuse the situation a bit, Corra reached for the jug of water near her and poured some into two glasses. Placing one of them in front of Kyparla, she gave a small smile to the Weyrwoman as they made eye contact. Corra wanted to put an arm around the redhead’s shoulders and offer her a hug, what little comfort was available for her to give, but this wasn’t the time. In the Council Room they were Weyrwomen, not friends. They would have time to talk and mourn after the meeting. For now, they were all business. Taking a sip of water, Corra glanced around the table and sat a bit straighter in her chair, waiting for the meeting to start.

[E]

If it were not for the bronze dragons presence in the wingleaders mind, even the dominate E’mion might have felt alone for the first time. Silence greeted him at the entrance and a purposely slow look around the room told him that the majority of the wingleaders and wingseconds were giving him admirable glares. A true bronze rider and proud of it, however, the arrogant man only lifted his chin higher, lingering on a few wingleaders whom he knew were more easily irritated before turning to the most powerful of them all – Lateo Weyrleader G’llahar.

Returning the glare with a hard look of his own for a good measure of tense seconds, he finally gave a simple nod. Not a bow as protocol would have called for – no, as far as E’mion was concerned this man had not been his Weyrleader for six turns and if there was any way to save even a shread of Muneo, the Helios wingleader would find it and begin again. The last thing he was willing to do now, after all his work and everything that had happened, was to bow to this Weyrleader. He down right refused.

Turning, he walked, still meeting eyes of those who dared to continue to glare at him until he reached the end of the table that was reserved for visiting wingleaders and where the rest of Muneo’s wings sat. Sitting in the middle of three empty chairs, he set his jar of numbweed none too gently on the table in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest. Waiting.

Cool it E’mion.
Don’t tell me what to cool Malekith.
Your temper may be running hotter than my fire, but there is a heat coming from the rest of the room as well. Don’t tempt the entire Weyr.

[Dizzy]

Smiling at the offer of a full glass of water, Kyparla looked over Corra approvingly. Her appearance was always commendable. In hushed tones the Weyrwoman spoke, “Thank you for hurrying. G‘llahar has yet to call them to order. To say the least, tt bodes to be an interesting morning.”

The Sidus Second, A’zon watched the Wingleader’s byplay with a curious half smirk on his face. He was no fan of Helios and almost relished their demise, because after such losses surely G’llahar would disband them. The older man couldn’t resist turning to his fellow wingmate and whispering in low tones barely audible to those nearby. “Wonder where he was when J’mie bit it?” “Don’t know, but it should have been him.” The men shifted in their chairs, more than ready to see what judgments would be passed.

Ignoring E‘mion‘s insolence, the Lateo Weyrleader spoke. “I apologize for calling everyone here on such short notice and in the wake of such sadness.” G’llahar’s even voice carried strongly through the hollowed rock council room, bringing the Wingleaders’ and Seconds to an informal order. “Before we begin our meeting I would like to observe a small moment of silence for those whom we have lost.” G’llahar allowed his eyes to rest on A’zon, letting the man know he would not tolerate his snide remarks.

[E]

E’mion did not hear the words Wingsecond A’zon whispered, but A’zon was not the only one who glanced his way darkly and the Helios Wingleader could have easily guessed what they were saying. Despite the happenings of the day before, the six turns before it had hardened him enough to hold his composure; remaining leaned back in his seat with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

Half listening to what the Weyrleader of Lateo said, E’mion couldn’t help but be in his own thoughts. Weyrleader – Ha! Even the young J’mie was better, at least J’mie didn’t outright show contempt for Helios and had been completely oblivious to E’mion’s doings. K’llahar, however… he had an idea before E’mion was sent away. Muneo had made things so much easier, but his work was too far now to stop or even slow its movement. Things were happening and had to continue happening.

At the mention of observing loses, E’mion did just that. Two of those he trusted to go north were now gone, and several craftsmen had gone missing that he had been using as well. Not to mention the two weyrlings he had been using to find flit eggs – troublemakers as they had been, they had also been useful. Yes, it would be difficult to keep things moving as quickly as he had been…

[Drache]

Corra gave a weak smile at Kyparla's statement. It would certainly be interesting. The tensions between riders, Wings and Weyrs was noticeable. This was surprising to Corra. Helios and Desta had only been gone for a few turns but they now seemed to be segregating themselves from Lateo. The Wingleader of Helios looked to be especially eager to disassociate himself from the rest of the riders present. The meeting was not looking like it would be a peaceful one. The goldrider would have to be on the look out for possible trouble so that she could hopefully smooth it out before it exploded.

At G'llahar's words, the Jr. Weyrwoman lowered her head for a minute. Faranth only knows how deeply everyone's lives will be affected by this. Poor Mariska and Zramuth would be one of the pairs paying the biggest price. At that thought, Corra reached out and touched the mind of her gold, as she done so many times over the past night. Feeling the gold was in a light slumber, she took comfort in knowing that nothing to serious was now going on, that Eileith could get some well earned sleep.

Hearing people begin to shift in their seats, Corra lifted her head and once again looked around the table.

[Dizzy]

Kyparla closed her eyes remembering all the horrors seen and felt just a few hours before. The silence gave her too much time to think, she was all to happy when it appeared to end as selfish as that might seem.

Taking the hint from the scrape of chairs and rustle of boots, G'llahar moved the meeting along. "The main reasons I called all of you here was to discuss what shall happen to Muneo Weyr, the housing dilemmas of the Muneo Riders, reprovisioning of medical supplies, and of course replacements for Wingleaders and Seconds lost to the disaster." The Weyrleader allowed that to sink in before moving on, it would more than likely be a hard topic to breach, but the sooner it was done the better.