Chapter Text
Yvonne returned to her chambers in the Weyr. She knew that the Red Star was returning. The signs were there. Her Gold Queen Mena was clutching, and she had lain a golden egg. Torchwood Weyr was rejoicing. There would be celebrations tonight. She could not be happy though. The Harper's songs were correct, the menace of thread would be on them, perhaps in her lifetime.
The tall blonde woman stalked around the room, glaring at the silks and tapestries that adorned the walls as if they could solve her problems.
"Bring food," she yelled.
The drudge who served her ran from her hiding spot behind the silks to respond to the command.
Yvonne needed to get her research progressed, there was no way that she was prepared to fight thread with her Dragon. She was going to be the saviour of Pern, and rid the planet of the red menace once and for all.
"Hello my dear," the older Weyr Leader B'Lis entered the chambers. His leathery face crinkled in a greasy smile.
A shudder went up Yvonne's spine. The obsequious leader did nothing for her and she shuddered to recall their mating, driven by the urges of the dragons in mating flight. He was the most influential of the Weyr Leaders and so was a "catch" for her, and Mena certainly liked his strong Bronze Cadence, and yes this was a large strong clutch, but she seriously hoped that, should another Mating flight be necessary, that another Bronze would catch Mena.
"How are the laboratory tests coming along?" She asked.
Finding the founder equipment in the locked caverns below the Weyr had been quite the boon. Their attempt to further advance the genetic makeup of the dragons to make them larger and quicker seemed to be going well. The psionic powers added to their riders should allow the two to join forces and use telekinesis to burn the thread all the way back to the Red Star. If the tests were complete ...
"Quite well, we will be testing the injections soon. I think we should try them on an unbonded Weyr born first. We want to make sure there are no side effects before we dose the riders."
"Good, good. Test it on Ianto, he is no good for anything else, useless lump "
"Your own son?" Even the hard hearted B'Lis was shocked at this. He had thought a drudge perhaps...
"Don't call him that. I have disowned him. Too much of his lazy father in him."
"Very well, if you are sure."
Yvonne nodded. "Get it done. We are running out of time. If I'm right it will take another 5 years before the red star is close enough, based on the ballads. It could require that long before the Dragons adapt to their new potential."
.......
Ianto considered his lot in life. He was not sure if being a drudge would be better or worse than being his mother's son. He longed to be a dragon rider but knew that his mother would not consider him when it came time for the search.
He sat scraping potatoes for the evening stew and singing quietly to himself. The excitement about the golden egg has lifted his spirits and, more importantly, he had managed to get word out to another Weyr about his mother's plans, hoping that someone could stop her before she went too far with something she didn't fully understand.
The Harper, Toshiko, had promised to speak to Weyr Leader Aramina as soon as she got to the Weyr. P'Tik had just left to transport the Harper between to Fort Weyr. Ianto had given her a flagon of soup to take with her, to help ward off the cold of between.
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Lord Harkness, Lord Holder of Torchwood Hold was startled from his despondent day dreams by the shouting outside in the courtyard. Rising from his seat, he strode out to determine the cause the the ruckus. In the yard were four huge Dragons and their riders. As he watched two more arrived, this time with riders and passengers. The sudden arrival causing a breeze that ruffed his dark locks.
He recognised Lorn Haligon and Lady Tenna of Fort Hold, and of course the two Leaders of Fort Weyr. He glanced at the dragons then looked away again, it was too hard to bear. Not even a year since his Green Estelle had died. She wanted him to go on, to cling to life and so he had, but it was hard. To lose that bond of dragon and rider. Such pain, far worse than anything he had ever experienced. Though really if he was honest, he didn't have a choice in the matter. At least on Pern, his unaging clean cut face could be rationalised away.
He swallowed and looked up past the dragons to the riders. He would do his duty as Lord Holder no matter how painful.
"Greetings my Lords and Ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His grin did not reach his eyes.
"Harkness, we need to talk about the Weyrleader B'Lis and his mate Yvonne." Haligon spared no time for niceties as he slid down off the brown dragon that had transported him.
Harkness groaned, knowing which of the two was the more likely problem. "What has she done this time."
"It's not what she has done, rather what she will do. She has located founder technology and is performing what she calls "experiments to upgrade" our dragons."
Harkness' cheeks drained of colour. He alone knew what the founders technology could do in the wrong hands. He has seen the outcome of the psionic wars. The federation had banned genetics for that very reason, even if it had saved the Pernese colony
"We have to stop her. We will need a plan."
.....