WNW Chapter 6: A Whole New Battle!

Xoco rights herself and takes a deep breath, darting glances left and right. It occurs to her the very act of breathing is a privilege right now -- the Night Fury took quite a beating. It would be nice to think its hull integrity was not breached...

She dusts herself, tugs her clothing into a semblance of order (not much hope there) and looks for the glyphs indicating the Chamber of Ixquitecatl. She has a vague idea of where the personnel hatch she came through was situated, although in the smoke and confusion it was a bit of a side issue. So to speak. On her way, she looks for Chipotle, Centehua, and Yaotlquauhtli. She remembers the sight of Nochehuatl's gruesome death, and represses a shiver. Well, at least the question of a funerary bundle is moot for him.

That a scouting party can have lost one third of its members, not counting the wounded, within hours of beginning its first mission speaks poorly of their future as servants of Lord Night Wind.

Chipotle groans, pushes himself to his feet and heads for the chamber of Ixquitecatl.

Shaking his head to clear it of the cobwebs, Yaotlquauhtli abruptly discovers that to be a bad idea as a throbbing headache takes the cobwebs' place. He drags himself upright with the aid of a dangling safety strap and his good arm and looks around a bit to get his bearings. Well, it's a small ship, how hard can it be to find Ixquitecatl's chamber? He slowly and carefully makes his way out the door and begins heading in what he believes to be the proper direction, careful to try to maintain some semblance of dignity.

The various members of the party all make their way through the ship to the chamber of Ixquitecatl. In passing, they note that the vessel is largely silent - apparently pretty much empty save for themselves and (presumably) the crew. Everyone arrives without trouble.

The Chamber of Ixquitecatl is small and cramped, but has sufficient altars of Ixquitecatl for four warriors to be blessed and treated for their injuries. The party has a few moments to take stock of the situation before a woman enters, dressed in smoke grey and turquoise. She wears the single feather of an iyac in her hair and several symbols of Lord Night Wind about her person. She is also wearing light powersuit armor, though without the helmet.

"Greetings Spirit Warriors," she says, bowing, "I am Citlalmina ['comet'] of the Storm Warriors. I serve Lord Night Wind as the warrior who assures that all is unseen¹. "We have no priest of Ixquitecatl aboard at the moment, but if if you are injured, I can offer the necessary prayers." She motions to the altars of Ixquitecatl. "I would also like to hear a report of what happened when your Butterfly was shot down. Once we are finished, I will take you to the flight deck so that you can speak with the priest of Yacatecutli who guides our craft through nullspace. He will give you your orders, but to answer your question before it is asked, yes, your Warrior Skins are aboard." She smiles as she says this, knowing the concern all young warriors have for their Warrior Skins.

Xoco looks at her companions; they seem to be in pretty bad shape. Chipotle and Yaotlquauhtli in particular have sustained a lot of damage, although Centehua seems to have gotten off easy in this respect, but may be in shock. The powerful rituals she performed earlier may have taken their toll; Xoco is not sure exactly what effect rituals are supposed to have on the worshippers.

All in all, she may be the one in the best of healths, an amazing situation considering she has just run a distraction under the nose of a Shadow Walker! She represses a shiver, and salutes Citlalmina, right palm on her left shoulder.

"Greetings, iyac Citlatlmina. I am Xoco Necahual, and these are Centehua Matlalihuitl, Yaotlquauhtli, and Chipotle. Our scout leader Nochehuatl and our companion Tecolotl Quiteteuhilpia have been killed in battle. I was piloting the Butterfly when we overflew this section of the continent. We were approximately and hour and a half from Mictlantecutli, flying at 60,000 feet, when two Stone Motions popped out of foldspace above us, dropped on an intercept course, and launched missiles after us. Yaotlquauhtli was our gunner and was able to destroy one of the craft with a magnificent shot, but we took some bad hits. I executed an emergency landing in the jungle.

Some of the other yaoquizque may remember this as a 'controlled crash', but Xoco continues her explanation.

"When we came to, several of us were wounded, and Tecolotl was in particularly bad shape, though Chipotle was able to bind our injuries. We decided to leave the crash site before our pursuers came to check on us. We followed a stream be toward the southwest, with Tecolotl on a travois. At least twice during the next day we were overflown by more Stone Motions in a search pattern at low altitude. Then a strange thing happened -- the two Stone Motions that were overflowing us suddenly disappeared, their noise just stopped dead. It didn't sound like ships going in foldspace either, no thunderclap.

"Several hours later, we heard more warrior skins coming; we saw at least five warrior skins in the sky! As we were hiding in the thickest possible vegetation, we were attacked by some sort of plant creature, which killed Tecolotl. We destroyed the creature, which looked native. We had to improvise a funerary bundle and a ceremony for Tecolotl. During the fight, we felt the aftershock of a Fist of the Gods' discharge, so we knew there was a battle going on, but it seemed to be out of hearing by the time our own fight was over.

"Centehua pointed out that the breeze had been blowing from the southwest to the northeast so we followed Lord Night Wind's guidance, doubling back along the stream towards the crash site. When we reached the spot, we discovered that the Butterfly's wreck had completely disappeared. Although the marks of our crash landing and camp site were visible, every single shred or scrap of the shuttle was gone. Gone like the two Stone Motions. We couldn't find any tracks but our own." Xoco grimaces, still annoyed at being unable to figure how this trick was pulled.

"We continued on along the streambed towards the northeast. After several more hours of walk (we had to stop and camp along the way), we came to an area where the stream was flowing between some tall crags, the ones near your landing spot. We saw something like a vertical pool of oil along the rock face, and a sort of metallic square near the base of the crags. We observed from a distance, but except for a very faint hint of movement spotted by Centehua and Chipotle, we couldn't see anything. After a while, I was sent to scout ahead.

"I was about 50 meters from the metal object when the two Shadow Walkers emerged from the oil slick and shot beams of purple light. One of them nearly hit me. I was out in the open, there didn't seem to be any way out of it, so I thought I would at least offer a distraction while my scouting party got to cover. But instead Centehua sang an awesome battle song and charged at the Shadow Walkers! The rest of the party followed on her heels.

"I thought if I couldn't be a distraction then I should try to get at least one hit in. I ran towards where I thought the feet of the closest Shadow Walker were, to make it difficult for him to shoot me and to try to climb up his warrior skin -- if that's what it is. Meanwhile, a shot killed our leader, Nochehuatl, just vaporized him. Then your Night Fury arrived and we all ran in. And now we can thank you and ask you how you knew where to find us. Or why you were sent after a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears yaoquizque."

"A most impressive tale, one worthy of warriors of the night wind," says Iyac Citlatlmina approvingly. "It is disturbing to know that the Shadow Walkers have a foothold on Tamoachan. We shall send word to the priesthood when we emerge from foldspace."

Yaotlquauhtli listens impassively to the recounting, somewhat irritated by the simple, straightforward, no-nonsense manner of the Dog Person's storytelling. Still, most of it seems factual enough, though he resented being referred to as 'wet-behind-the-ear'. And Centehua's song wasn't all that inspired. Yaotlquauhtli charges into battle of his own accord, thank you, not because someone sings him into it.

Centehua, finally coming down from the battle lust she had worked herself into, nods as Xoco finishes her story. It is all fact. Yaotlquauhtli's irritation catches Centehua's eye. She frowns in displeasure. Ungrateful fool! He stood slack jawed through most of the battle like a scared mouse...

Once he has a chance to speak, Yaotlquauhtli smiles winningly at the warrior who assures that all is unseen and bows as politely as his injuries will allow. "I thank you for your hospitality and your kind offer of assistance, iyac Citlatlmina. It's quite pleasant, after our time as a guest of the jungles, to see proper facilities again. Please, forgive our appearance. I fear the denizens of the wild were somewhat less than careful with our attire."

Centehua stifles a snort. Seems one might need to change his soiled undergarments after staring death in the face.

Yaotlquauhtli leans with as casual a manner as possible on one of the altars and continues, "I dislike imposing like this, but I don't wish to address the priest of Yacatecutli when I'm not at my best. Nor do I wish to inadvertently fail Lord Night Wind due to my injuries. I'd be honored if you would use your prayers and the altars to restore my arm to a serviceable condition." He smiles again, somewhat ruefully this time.

Centehua stifles yet another snort. Seems songs and prayers are all important now that his poor little arm hurts. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, unable to decide if she can continue to control her outbursts. She quietly sighs, and stands up straight. She is a warrior. She is a priestess. She will endure.

Citlatlmina nods and indicates one of the altars to Ixquitecatl. "Please lie on the altar Yaoquizque, and clear your mind of thought." She looks to the other Spirit Warriors. "Are there any who wish to assist?" she asks.

Xoco shakes her head. "Nah," she says, "he's really good at doing that, he doesn't need any help."

Centehua smiles, obviously biting her tongue as hard as she can. Little Sister's observations are true once again!

Yaotlquauhtli rolls his eyes, then bows gratefully to Citlatlmina with a warm expression. "Thank you, Citlalmina. I'm afraid I must apologize for my companion. She can be somewhat simple, and it seems our recent ordeal has done nothing to improve her crude sense of humor."

"Yes," replies Iyac Citlalmina, "The ways of the Dog People are often crude and unsophisticated, and their humor is often coarse and vulgar. As such I do not expect them to be particularly civilized, to act in a gracious manner, or to address their superiors properly as etiquette dictates. Now, please lie on the altar, Yaoquizque."

Xoco shrugs and rolls her eyes. While Citlalmina starts fussing over Yaotlquauhtli, the Chichimec turns to examine the equipment in the Chamber of Ixquitecatl. She keeps her hands behind her back, simply looking at the symbols and lights without touching anything -- in fact, ostentiously not touching anything, as if making an effort of will to refrain from messing with anything.

Centehua tries her best to remove her smile, and bows before Citlalmina. "The ordeal has affected each of us differently. I believe, for the most part, all did what they could in the face of danger." Centehua bows again, and quietly regained her stance.

"Then you are to be commended, for you have fulfilled the will of Lord Night Wind." Iyac Citlalmina moves to the altar on which Yaotlquauhtli is lying and begins to chant.

Yaotlquauhtli lies carefully on the altar, closes his eyes, and attempts to meditate on the subject of nothing. Iyac Citlalmina begins to chant slowly and solemnly.

With that she ends abruptly. The Yaoquizque, momentarily caught up in the symbolism and imagery of the chant, start as if suddenly awakening from a dream. Xoco vaguely thinks this must have been the longest ending she ever heard, but even she has to admit it was a compelling chant.

Yaotlquauhtli attempts to move his broken arm, and finds it only stiff and sore, no longer broken. Iyac Citlalmina says "All praise to Ixquitecatl for the blessings bestowed." she turns to Xoco, but addresses the group, "please go to the Pilot's House," [the Bridge] "and meet with Tequiua² Ollin. He will brief you on your upcoming mission. May Lord Night Wind guide you, Spirit Warriors."

"All praise to Ixquitecatl!" Centehua responds. She watches Iyac Citlamina for a second longer, trying to capture all the final, remaining subtleties of the ceremony.

"Thank you, iyac Citlalmina," Xoco answers politely with a suitable salute. She glances at Yaotlquauhtli, Centehua, and Chipotle to make sure they are also ready, then heads for the exit of the Chamber and into the corridor, following her instinct as much as the markings to locate the Pilot's House. She nearly quivers with suppressed anticipation, her curiosity fanned to a raging blaze by Citlalmina's complete sidestepping of all explanations.

Centehua breaks away from her trance and begins to follow Xoco to the Pilot's House. She walks slowly, but does not linger, quietly humming the healing chant in an effort to remember the power of the imagery to use in her own ceremonies to the gods.

Yaotlquauhtli flexes his arm experimentally as he stands near the altar. He inclines his head reverently to the altar of Ixquitecatl, then bows to Citlalmina. "My humble thanks to Lord Ixquitecatl. And to you as well, iyac Citlalmina. Some day I will have to learn that ritual. The imagery is beautiful." He smiles a bit wistfully and follows the others toward the pilot's house.

New Mission

The Yaoquizgue make their way to the front of the vessel, where the Pilot's House lies. As they approach the entrance to the Pilot's House, the smell of incense becomes noticable.

The Pilot's House is a lot like the control room of a Warrior Skin, only bigger. Numerous artifacts of the Gods are visible (though only Chipotle knows what most of them do) and the crossroads symbol of Yacatecutli is prominently displayed in many areas. One artifact that can easily be recognized is the warrior's shield and club which hang from one wall. The shield identifies its bearer as a tequiua [teh-KEE-oo-ah. lit. "Beast of prey"] and is covered with semi-precious stones in complex and arcane patterns.

Seated in the center of the room is a man in the full dress of a priest of Yacatecutli, including a long robe of purple and feathers and an enormous headdress of gold. His back is to the doorway, and he sways back and forth slowly, like a metronome in honey. As the Yaoquizque approach he speaks, though none can see his lips move, and his voice seems to come from all around.

"Which of you commands?" he asks. His voice is melodious and low, that of a trained singer.

"No one," says Xoco wistfully. "Our scout leader has just been killed." Her eyes dart left and right; this Pilot's House is quite different from the ones she's trained on. But she remains immobile, refraining from poking around.

"Do not trouble me with irrelevancies," he replies, swaying slowly. "Someone commands. Who is it?"

Centehua, about to speak, is cut off by Xoco. The Chichimec doesn't even blink. "I do," she says, quite truthfully. After all, he asked who gives orders, not whether anyone follows them.

Centehua catches herself for a moment. Surely Lord Night Wind knows us by name, heart and spirit, and not as mere numbered bodies...

Ollin continues, "We have received a distress call from the KreeSara home system. This is the first we have heard of those who departed with Quetzalcoatl and Yaoltzin to attack the KreeSara. However, we cannot make contact with anyone in the system. The distress call emanates from the third moon of the KreeSara homeworld.

"The city-states of Tamoachan are too involved in the current War of Flowers to mount a rescue expedition. Lord Night Wind has decided that you will go. Your Warrior Skins are aboard in the western hangar. We will perform a low orbit combat drop above the third moon in the area from which the distress signal is originating. We will then move to the fourth moon and conceal the ship, and will await your signal. You will land and ascertain the situation, then contact us and arrange for pickup."

"Information on conditions is available from the Spirit Helper³ within your Warrior Skins. We will exit foldspace in one hour. Please report to the western hangar and prepare your Warrior Skins for combat."

All the time he speaks, he continues to sway, as perfectly and precisely as a machine. Only the beads of sweat that roll down his bare arms from under his robe indicate the stress he is under.

Centehua cannot help by smile slightly at the words "Warrior Skins". It has been a long time that she has yearned to feel the controls in her hands. To fight as the gods intended her to fight.

Xoco is swept by an electrifying feeling of anticipation as the Pilot's explanation unfolds. Adventure! Danger! Glory! A chance to kick KreeSara ass in a Warrior Skin! She salutes smartly, right palm on her left shoulder. "Yes, tequiua Ollin!" she exclaims. She whirls around and makes a shooing motion towards the others, impervious to their stares.

Shooing has little effect on Centehua, as she already is looking for the passageway leading to her beloved Warrior Skin. She tries hard to maintain her composure without breaking into a Xoco-style mad dash to the chamber where they are held.

Yaotlquauhtli sighs inwardly at Xoco's attempt to shoo him out before proper respect has been paid. This is our supposed leader? The only reason he allows it to pass is that she did win the Tlatchtli game, which in theory gave her the right. Even if she did violate protocol to do so, and show a complete lack of respect for the honor by handing it over to another at the first opportunity. Still, Lord Night Wind must have his reasons, mysterious and unfathomable as they may be.

He bows deeply, and salutes. "Thank you, Tequiua. Praise to Yoali Ehecatl, we will not fail him." Then he turns and begins making his way to the western hangar.

The Warrior Skins

The journey to the launch bay for the Warrior Skins is made in silence -- each warrior lost in his or her own thoughts. The time of training is over -- soon each will fight as a chosen warrior of Yoali Ehecatl and a representative of their city state. Moreover the mission upon which they embark is an important one -- no mere diplomatic assignment or honor guard roll - they will be dropped into the home system of an enemy race, a system which has swallowed up the cream of Quetzaltepec, and Quetzalcoatl himself.

The four walk into the large drop bay, their footsteps echoing against the deck plates. Five of the six drop bay stations are occupied by Warrior Skins, all colored in the deep black of Yoali Ehecatl with only a few strategically marked areas to show their city-state allegiance. Smaller bays within each drop bay station hold the armored suits that the warriors will wear while piloting their warrior skins.

Drop Bay Station #1 holds a Jaguar warrior skin, sleek of line and predatory. The cockpit, located in the torso, is shaped in a manner similar to that of a great cat, giving the warrior skin an appearance akin to that of a bipedal puma. There are touches of the traditional Jaguar colors - golden brown and green, in various places around the warrior skin.

Stopping in front of his warrior skin, Yaotlquauhtli nods. It will do, though it definitely needs some personal touches. This first mission will be a perfect chance to come back with some small trophy or an idea for an additional decoration. The cockpit looks smaller than before, though. He hopes he'll have enough room to carry his war club... when he gets another one, that is.

Drop Bay Station #2 holds a Hummingbird warrior skin, which appears light, maneuverable, and aerodynamic. The torso is horizontal rather than vertical as with the Jaguar mech, with an avian shape to it and heat flanges projecting upwards like a crown of feathers. The black of the warrior skin is broken here and there by trimmings in jade blue and yellow.

Centehua takes in the sight of her warrior skin, her eyes following every edge, every line, every shape. This will be a part of her, and she needed to know, to understand, every inch of it. Her lips slightly moved, as if she was mumbling something, but it is not audible.

Drop Bay Station #3 holds a Chichimeca warrior skin. The torso is vertical, the cockpit sitting at the top of the torso rather than the middle. It is the most individualistic of the warrior skins, with numerous symbols and fetishes of the Dog People worked into the knee and arm guards, and a shield which is somewhat different in shape and proportion from that of the Azteca, and is almost completely unadorned. The one exception is the single feather of an iyac which now adorns the shield. A man is in the drop bay putting the finishing touches on the mounting for the feather.

Xoco gasps, realizing the significance of this: iyacs command war parties. They are no longer a scouting party. She makes an effort of will to keep the mixture of elation and fright she feels off her features.

Drop Bay Station #4 holds a Way Bringer warrior skin. It is the most human looking, for the Way Bringers celebrate their human nature above any bestial totem. The cockpit is above the torso in the "head" of the warrior skin, and the black coloration is broken by mystic symbols in red and purple.

Drop Bay Station #5 holds a warrior skin of the Death Messengers. It looks, more than anything else, like a conglomeration of spare parts scrounged from broken warrior skins on a dozen battlefields, which is pretty much what it is. The black coloration is broken in only a few places, where what look to be bones have been painted on one leg, and a skull with a dagger through the nose slot on the shield.

At first the yaoquizque (and their iyac leader) dismiss this sadly as the the warrior skin intended for Tecolotl, but there is no matching warrior skin in bay #6 for Nochehuatl. Then a young man of about the same age as the yaoquizque steps from behind the suit and walks forward to bow deeply to iyac Xoco.

"Iyac, I am yaoquizque Tepiltzin - Tepiltzin Mahuizoh," [lit. 'Priviledged Son, Glorious Person' quite a presumptuous name - Ed] he states formally, "from the city-state of Tepeyolohtli. I serve Lord Night Wind, and have been assigned to your war party at your pleasure."

Xoco represses an urge to look over her shoulder when Teplitzin says 'iyac'. She nods at him. "That was quick," she comments. "I mean, Lord Night Wind sees all, of course, but I had no idea news traveled so fast. I'm Xoco Necahual of the Ehecalli, and these are Yaotlquauhtli of Chantico, Centehua Matlaihuitl of Cuauhtlicalli, and Chipotle of Ixcuina." Somewhat uncharacteristically, she pauses briefly to let her companions and Tepiltzin put in a few words.

Yaotlquauhtli bows in an appropriate manner as he's introduced, though perhaps a bit less than is strictly proper. He remains silent, eyeing the newcomer curiously.

Tepiltzin bows respectfully to each, but does not say anything. He is a relatively average looking young man, perhaps even a bit sickly in appearance, as though recovering from a recent serious illness.

"So, Tepiltzin, what are you good at?" Xoco asks. "I know what the rest of the party can do, but nothing of you. Yaotlquauhtli is Mr. Short Range, he takes the fight to the target. Chipotle's got good firepower and is hard for uh, the spirit of the enemy's weapons to see. Centehua's the most manoeuvrable and has good support capability. I..." She shrugs. "I do a bit of everything."

"I am trained in the use of a Warrior Skin," replies Tepiltzin. "In training I was best at ambush and evasion, and at blinding my enemies."

Yaotlquauhtli nods slightly, though it feels a bit incongruous. He'd always thought the Death Messengers were looking for death. Hiding from it doesn't really seem to fit, somehow. Still, they've never really been interested in glory on the battlefield, so maybe to them dying while hiding from the enemy is the best death imaginable.

As she says all this, she flicks a glance towards the newcomer's warrior skin, trying to guess the weaponry and capabilities of this mass of spare parts. Then she returns her appraising glance to the mech's owner. The latter is surreptitiously looking with ill concealed pride at the mass of junk and scavenged parts which would make any Chichimec shudder in horror.

"With that," he says quietly, "I shall send many enemies to the realm or Miclantecutli."

Centehua, interrupted from her trance, looks at the newest member of the party, and bows slightly in return, to show her respect. However, she knows in her heart her trust will not be gained completely until he has shown himself in battle... and mission.

As she straightens up, she pauses a second, then slowly removes the crude necklace she has been wearing since the jungle. "Tepiltzin, I... we seek your advice. As you know, we have lost two comrades. One was named Tecolotl, from Tepeyolohtli. We were able to perform last rites for him, but none of us was trained in the ceremonies of Mictlantecutli. I have his remains here." Centehua holds out the necklace in her hand. "We all want to be sure his path to paradise is clear -- without obstacles placed there by our ignorance. What should we do for Tecolotl so he can complete his journey?"

For just a moment Tepiltzin makes an attempt to look haughty and arrogant. He doesn't do it very well, and quickly gives it up, seeming almost embarrassed by the attempt. "I ah," he says, then stops and tries again. "I am sorry. I regret that I know little of such things. He has already received his greatest reward - death. If you have his remains they should be sent to Tepeyolohtli. The priests there will burn them in a public ceremony. If not, then remember him to one of the Death god's priests when you return.". He seems a bit uncomfortable with the topic.

Centehua continues to hold out the necklace. The topic of death and reaching paradise for being a warrior should not seem uncomfortable, and she is unwilling to let it be as such. "Is there a way you can arrange for this to make it back to Tepeyolohtli? You are part of our group now - one of Lord Night Wind's warriors. Wouldn't you expect the same for you, to ensure your passage to paradise?"

"If you wish, but I am going on the same mission as you are. Would Nochehuatl have preferred me to carry his remains, or you?"

Centehua pauses for a moment, remembering the constraints reality has placed on them at the moment. "I realize there is much going on at this point, and time is short. Can we give the remains to someone on this ship to send back to Tepeyolohtli?"

Chipotle quietly suggests, "Perhaps it might be appropriate to carry his remains with us as a totem. He has given everything for Lord Nightwind as we will someday. Once we are again in a place to do him honor, he can be laid to rest." He returns his gaze to the Way Bringer warrior skin searching for any new scratches or marks.

The man from drop bay station #3 approaches. He wears the clothing and fetishes of a member of the Chichimeca, but with symbols of the god Macuiltotec as well as Yoali Ehecatl. He bows formally and indicates by hand signs that that the party should proceed to their warrior skins.

Xoco gives him a covert glance of fascinated horror. Would learning the secrets of Macuiltotec make up for the harsh demands of the jealous god? Then a thought strikes her: surely some would be delighted if she were to serve Macuiltotec -- and had her tongue cut out for it. She gives Yaotlquauhtli her widest smile but says nothing, nodding instead to the priest of Macuiltotec. With this, she hurries towards her warrior skin.

Yaotlquauhtli nods reflexively at Xoco's sudden interest. What the heck was that about? As she turns away, he spares one more glance toward Tepiltzin. "Fight gloriously, privileged one. With the grace of Yoali Ehecatl, you will not need to utilize some of your more specialized skills this journey." He then makes his way to his warrior skin, anticipating the feel of real weaponry in his hands again.

"Thank you, Honored Jaguar. It shall be as Yoali Ehecatl wills," replies Tepiltzin.

Centehua's heart jumps at being given the go-ahead to finally meld with her Warrior Skin. She touches one or two of the jade pieces that she can reach, mumbles, and works her way into the cockpit.

Xoco approaches her warrior skin with a mixture of pride and awe. slowing down as she reaches it. Before climbing in, she inspects the exterior: joints, weapons, armour. She gives a couple of sidelong glances to the feather just added onto the shield, but resist the temptation of touching it. When she is satisfied that all is as it should be and has dressed in battle armour, she scampers up and into the cockpit, easing herself into the space with care. Again, she goes through the check with care despite the press of time, refusing to rush the ritual that can mean the difference between a small mistake and death.

She runs her hand along the controls, murmuring something. Unlike her Azteca companions, she does not pray to the Huitznahua but to the spirit of her ancestors. She recites a litany of praises in a low voice, thanking the ancestors for the wisdom and learning they have left behind to the Chichimeca. The murmured litany ends with with the completion of the pre-flight check. By then Xoco is sealed in her warrior skin, waiting breathlessly for the first true battle in the service of Lord Night Wind.

Notes

¹ Think of it as the "Electronic Warfare Officer" - Ed. Return.

² A Tequiua is one step up from an Iyac - Ed. Return.

³ Think of the Spirit Helper as a computer and you will not be far from the mark. - Ed. Return.